


Cum Liberum Arbitrium

by SetteLupe



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic or something similar, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Collars, Dom/sub, Domination, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, I can't think of anything else but I will update the tags eventually, Jinn, M/M, Master/Slave, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Post-Apocalypse civilization, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SetteLupe/pseuds/SetteLupe
Summary: The Anunnaki had left many creatures behind them when they fled the planet. The ones that had most influenced humans were the jinns, for better or for worse. Selected, changed to better serve their masters, the jinn had become completely succubus to their masters. But things change: it is the law of nature. At the beginning it is a small detail, an individual among millions, and nobody realizes it: it takes a long time for the change to be manifest. This is its story.
Relationships: Desmond Miles/Lucy Stillman, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Leonardo da Vinci, Malik Al-Sayf & Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Maybe others but I dont' know at the moment, Rebecca Crane/Shaun Hastings
Comments: 24
Kudos: 35





	1. Venator

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'll try. It's been a long time since I wanted to write this story, but I don't know how it will end. I apologize as of now for my English: it's not my first language and I know it's noticeable, so I ask you to let me know what I can correct to improve the legibility of the story. From now on I warn you that the publication of the chapters will not be regular or frequent, but I intend to do my utmost to reach the end! I promise!
> 
> Oh, and of course I am available for any suggestions or questions: I will be happy to answer my best!

Although not many sources had survived to testify to the exact development of the facts, the most accredited theory established the beginning of everything in a colossal solar eruption that would have wiped out most of the living forms on the planet, upset geology, ecosystem and, not lastly, much of the technology on which the society of the dominant species at the time was based was destroyed: homo sapiens. Everything suggested that the human species, and more generally life on planet Earth, was destined to become extinct.

Then, the Anunnaki had arrived.

That day was now a subject of study for archaeologists: thousands of years had passed and the world had changed radically; it wasn’t known with certainty even if indeed, as some theories asserted, it was the Anunnaki themselves that caused the blast (considering the singular timing of their arrival on Earth). However, there was no real evidence of their involvement in the drama that occurred, so most simply considered them as vultures attracted by the echo of the catastrophe and happy to take advantage of the desperation of humans.

Apparently they presented themselves as saviours at first: they said they had already been on Earth in the past to bring knowledge and civilization to humans and promised to do it again, raising the fate of the survivors of the catastrophe.

As much as everyone attributed to despair the choice of humans to rely on newcomers without asking many questions, Altaïr believed that it was rather naivete, stupidity and the unmotivated presumption of possessing some special value compared to other life forms in the galaxy. What else could lead them to believe that a people could make a journey of millions of light-years in the sidereal space with the sole purpose of running to their rescue?

If he had found himself in the place of those humans, he would never have trusted they. But Altaïr was born millennia after those events ... and to be honest he wasn't even human; so he never wasted too much time speculating on the subject.

Altaïr was a _jinn_ , an _ʿifrīt_ to be more precise.

According to sources, its species was introduced, together with several others compatible with the terrestrial environment, with one of the first measures taken by the newcomers in order to repopulate the planet and fill the ecological niches that remained empty due to the extinction of numerous indigenous life forms. The strategy proved successful: the previously compromised ecological balances were restored in a short time, the new creatures acclimated and related to the endemic ones as if they were a single well-oiled mechanism, healing the planet and making it flourishing as it had not been for thousands of years .

The only flaw detectable in the project was precisely the jinn, who proved to be formidable predators of humans and capable in a very short time of significantly reducing the ranks of the few survivors of the catastrophic solar flare.

To the increasingly vehement protests, the Anunnaki seemed to have responded by explaining how this propensity of the jinn was an unexpected implication of their predatory attitudes and ensuring the imminent start of a program aimed at correcting this problem. In the meantime, they would have taken charge of the protection of the population thanks to the coexistence with the families of Anunnaki as the innate technologies and abilities of the latter would have discouraged the attacks by the jinn, who would certainly have opted for easier prey.

Unfortunately, the initial peaceful coexistence gradually and inexorably turned into a state of subordination and, subsequently, of real slavery; when the humans became aware of it, the trap had already taken place, their civil rights had faded and their fate apparently sealed. Apparently the Anunnaki were experts in this process which they had already carried out countless times and knew very well how to behave. As for the jinn ... Well, the fact that, after millennia, many of them continued to do what they were genetically programmed for, it said a lot about the steps taken by the Anunnaki to correct their apparent error of assessment.

Unfortunately, the initial peaceful coexistence gradually and inexorably turned into a state of subordination and, subsequently, of real slavery; when the humans became aware of it, the trap had already taken place, their civil rights had faded and their fate apparently sealed. Apparently the Anunnaki were experts in this process which they had already carried out countless times and knew very well how to behave. As for the jinn ... Well, the fact that, after millennia, many of them continued to do what they were genetically programmed for, it said a lot about the steps taken by the Anunnaki to correct their apparent error of assessment.

And it was precisely the hunt for a human that brought Altaïr to the top of one of the tall buildings in the city, on that cold autumn evening: his prey had eluded him for two days and he was nothing short of frustrated; admitting that he had underestimated that little rat's ability to disappear was an annoying price for his proud soul.

He took a deep breath to calm down and re-examined the panorama of the city that lay beneath him in search of some clue or place that he might have left out.

New Babylon was a rather large city, with the uneven architecture typical of border settlements, disorderly scattered at the entrance of a large valley bordered by wooded hills. It was built right next to the _limes_ , the border between civilized lands and the vast territories where wild and ferocious beasts lived and hunted (heavy legacy of the times when the war for freedom unleashed by humans had pushed the Anunnaki to create beasts increasingly fierce to fight against the insurgents), places that had not yet been recaptured by humans and where they do not willingly venture. Surely his target was not there; nor was it in the east, the most modern and richest area, where police and private guards patrolled the streets capturing jinn and dissident humans with remarkable efficiency. Altaïr himself avoided that part of the city if he could. The historical part remained, closer to the hills, and the more dilapidated neighborhoods to the west, where he was now.

He had searched these last two areas from top to bottom without finding any trace of his prey. By now the sunset was fading into the shadows of the night and Altaïr needed to rest a bit in the heat, after spending the previous two nights on the trail of man: he was tired and cold to the point that he had almost completely lost his sensitivity by hand, feet and tail, despite the thick gloves and padded boots he had procured. The ʿafārīt were creatures suited to the hot and dry climates of the deserts, not to the cold and humid ones of the region where he was now.

His gaze absent-mindedly focused on a completely dark area of the old quarter: it was the monumental cemetery, a practically abandoned area, spared from demolition only because of the corpses buried there, whose relocation was a nuisance that nobody wanted to take on. It was not a nice place: time and neglect had made it a decadent and spooky place, colonized by numerous dangerous creatures, a place from which even a large-sized jinn like him would have duly kept away, especially at night. Altaïr shook his head: although he was not frequented by guards of any kind, it was still not a good place to rest, he should have bet rather ... It stopped in the middle of the act of descending from the lightning rod antenna on which it had been perched.

He hadn't checked the cemetery; that that madman, driven by despair, had holed up over there? It was an absolute folly: a human alone had little hope of surviving a night in that place, but his prey knew he was being hunted and probably also knew that on his tracks there was Altaïr himself. Perhaps he had considered his chances of salvation superior in the cemetery rather than elsewhere ...

The big jinn grunted, annoyed at himself for not having thought of it before and dropped onto the roof of the building. Visiting the cemetery did not entice him, but he had to make at least one attempt; he pulled the hood lower on his face and jumped on the roof of the neighboring building, choosing a path that would allow him to stay as long as possible in the upper part of the buildings.

As tired and cold as he was, Altaïr took the liberty of enjoying the ride to the cemetery walls. Life had never offered him particular joys or moments of serenity and those breathtaking runs were one of the few occasions that the jinn had to clear his mind and find some fun; furthermore, the movement would reactivate the circulation in his numbed extremities, heating them and making them pleasantly tingle. He felt free and light as he sneaked onto the ledge of a building, using the flagpole of a flag as a springboard to jump onto the roof of an adjacent building and rolling on landing to cushion the fall. His maneuver alerted a dog to guard a nearby balcony and Altaïr hurried down the sloping roof to prevent the dog owner, alarmed by the furious barking, from surprising him by wandering around that area: he certainly did not need someone who call the police to investigate him.

In a few strides he reached the other side of the roof, then covered the distance that separated him from the next building by running on a rough beam and using the long tail as a barbell. The cemetery now loomed over him, soaring with its high ruined walls beyond the line of adjacent buildings. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, then carefully descended from the roof on which he was standing.

There was an area of about thirty meters completely free around the sepulchral complex where no one had even built a sidewalk, little frequented and poorly cared for. Altaïr would have had to cross that area exposed to anyone's eyes, a maneuver that did not excite him much: despite being dressed in dark, he had no way to hide his shiny white horns streaked with gold that came out of the hood and which would have shone in the light streetlights like headlights in the dark; attracting attention was never a good idea in those places.

Fortunately, the jinn knew how to remedy the inconvenience: he took a deep breath and detached himself from the wall, sliding into what was called a _subtle form_ , to go unnoticed through the exposed area that separated him from his goal.

The ability to assume the subtle form was innate in almost all known species of jinn yet, like many other phenomena related to those creatures, it escaped the full understanding of researchers and scientists. Although not definable as a real invisibility, it still concealed a jinn in the eyes of humans, even if the creature had been directly in front of the observer: it was seen, but not noticed. Obviously this ability had limitations by not effectively making those who used it invisible: to be able to hide in full view it was necessary to do nothing that could alarm the onlookers, therefore making sudden movements or making loud sounds would immediately break the balance. According to some scholars, the subtle form was actually a kind of hypnosis that the jinn were able to induce in those who looked at them, and pushed the observer's brain to completely ignore their shape. This explained another limitation of the subtle form: it did not work when jinn were filmed or photographed.

Altaïr did not have to fear surveillance cameras in that area of the city and no one willingly wandered near the old cemetery, eliminating the risk of accidental impacts that would have broken its subtle form, however the walk that led him to one of the entrances it also seemed to require an eternity, there being always the possibility of some unexpected. In the world that the Annunaki had left behind fleeing Earth, Altaïr was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous predators, but he was neither alone nor the largest.

He sighed with relief as he silently slid past the dented railing and took a moment to observe the new environment and get an idea of what awaited him.

In front of him lay a forest of dilapidated tombstones and ruined mausoleums interspersed with paths suffocated by twisted shrubs. The low light of the stars dyed the worn marbles of sickly, greyish and bluish shades, making the cracks on the stones stand out and blackening the mold stains on the cracked plasters. But Altaïr had no time to waste dwelling on the decrepit panorama: his pupils, similar to those of a cat in shape, dilated to catch even the smallest sign of movement, attentive to the silhouettes that crawled in large numbers on the ground among the various buildings present. There seemed to be no other jinn in that area of the cemetery, just as it did not seem frequented by other dangerous creatures for him: only mice, a few stray cats and a fair number of kobolds, grotesque creatures of various shapes and the approximate size of a chimpanzee, harmless for Altaïr, at least until they had bridled to defend themselves from a possible threatening attitude.

It seemed that luck was twice on his side that evening, since, in addition to not having found dangerous residents in the area, he only needed a brief patrol before seeing a footprint in the damp soil. It had been left by a worn-out shoe worn by someone who proceeded hastily and insecure, as evidenced by the signs of slipping on the sole; it was a recent footprint and too deep to have been left by a jinn, with the same size in fact, hollow bones made them lighter than humans.

A little further on, some broken branches signaled to Altaïr where his probable prey had turned to sneak into one of the arcades that led to the internal rooms of a building that housed the ossuary.

The big jinn slipped again in its subtle form so as not to be identified before following the track through semi-collapsed tunnels that in some places became so narrow and invaded by the rubble to force him to crawl on his knees; after a few turns, the light of a small fire warned him that he had reached his goal.

Altaïr leaned around a corner and saw his victim curled up in an alcove in the wall, next to a small fire; a few handfuls of salt and some stones ready to be thrown as his only defense from the creatures that inhabited that place. The poor man looked terrified, he jerked at every little noise and seemed really one step away from a hysterical crisis, Altaïr certainly did not blame him for the pathetic spectacle he offered, but he did not even feel pity for him: they were predator and prey, the death of one would ensure the survival of the other. The law of men was valid only among those who could afford to live in the highest strata of society, in the misery the law of the fittest was still valid.

The subtle form was less effective if the observer was frightened and alert, so Altaïr paid particular attention during the approach, but the accumulated fatigue and cold made him more clumsy and distracted, so he did not notice a loose stone that rolled noisily as soon as it was touched by its tail.

The human turned abruptly, and paled to find himself with a huge ʿifrīt a few meters away. Altaïr did not even have time to swear at himself for his inattention, before having to go in pursuit of the man, made incredibly fast by the adrenaline rush. He was almost crushed by a beam that gave way after being hit by his prey, but in a few strides he managed to compensate for the detachment and was behind the man. He took a long leap and landed directly between the poor man's shoulder blades; death was rapid, sharp claws emerging from an armor of golden scales covered his left hand and sank deep into the victim's back, severing the spine. His job had been completed: a quick, clean kill.

Altaïr remained motionless for a moment perched on his victim, then descended from his back and turned to make sure he was actually dead, but before abandoning him to the necrophages that were already approaching, he closed his eyes. He did it every time, or at least every time he had time, before he had to escape the crime scene.

It was not a way of asking for forgiveness, it was not a gesture dictated by pity or repentance: Altaïr did not feel these emotions; it was rather a form of respect, a kind of recognition paid to what could be called a competitor in a certain sense. They had both fought their best and the man had been a tenacious rival, there was no reason to deny it.

The instructions that the ʿifrīt had received were to leave the body wherever it fell as a warning, the instigator of that assassination frequently requested it so that all his subordinates knew what the consequences of insubordination were; then Altaïr got to his feet and moved calmly but without hesitation from the scene of the murder: the noise and the smell of blood would soon have attracted much bigger and more dangerous things than some member of the _small people_ , better not being around when they had arrived. He waited until he reached an alley far from the cemetery before taking a cell phone out of his pocket and starting a call to the only number in the phone's contacts.

"Done" he said only.

"It took you too long. Come back here. Now” replied a harsh voice.

Altaïr ended the call, hearing that voice had had the power to rekindle the fire of anger in him, erasing tiredness in an instant; it had always had that effect but, in recent years, the grudge he felt had made it even more revolting in his ears. He would have liked to smash the damn contraption in his hand against the wall in front of him or, even better, do the same thing with the skull of the owner of that phone ... but it would have changed nothing, he reasoned putting the cell phone in his pocket, he had to wait the right opportunity if he wanted to get revenge: he would not have made the mistake of getting carried away by the heat, rashly throwing himself into a battle that he could not win.

The window of a shop not far away provided him with a reflective surface sufficient to check his appearance before starting: Tamir lived in a fairly sophisticated neighborhood and a disheveled and dusty jinn would certainly have attracted attention; remaining immersed in the subtle form for as long as necessary to reach his apartment would have required an amount of energy that he did not currently have, so the only alternative left was to look as much as possible to one of the neighborhood residents.

This also meant covering the rusty collar that surrounded his neck and that did not suit the jinn owned by a wealthy person.

His eyes focused on the reflected image of that ramshackle symbol of his slavery and a new wave of fury added to what was already boiling in his chest. Altaïr hated that object with all his might, for what it meant to him and what it meant for his species. He strongly hated collars, humans and other jinn, hated his past, was disgusted with his present and hated the idea that the next day a new dawn would arise, and then another, marking the passage of time in a prison from which he could not escape ...

It was the sound of shattered glass that triggered him out of the furious trance in which he had fallen, realizing immediately that he had just done a very stupid thing: abandoning his self-control he had punched the shop window with his fist, triggering the alarm of the building and waking up residents. Altaïr sprinted away, rushing into an alley and hoping that no one had noticed him, while at the same time cursing himself for having thus abandoned himself to anger.

Altaïr did not blame humans for the resistance they organized in those ancient times when they were oppressed and enslaved: everyone has the right to fight for life and freedom. What he considered ignoble was the way they had won.

Obviously there had been no evaluation error in the choice to introduce the jinn into the terrestrial ecosystem: the Anunnaki never fought, it was enough for him to create each time the type of soldiers best suited to the planet they wanted to conquer using their extraordinary knowledge of bioengineering . In the case of Earth, jinns had been created for this purpose, perfect not only to push humans into the trap designed by the Anunnaki but also, subsequently, to extinguish any insurrection that occurred in horrendous bloodbaths. Absolute loyalty to their creators was assured by the belief that they were divinities, after all only a god could give life to a new species, right? (Well, in hindsight, Altaïr certainly could not be said to be very proud of the enormous naivety shown by his people at that juncture ...)

That the Anunnaki preferred to send the jinn to do the dirty work, while they remained safe in their impregnable fortresses, soon jumped into the eyes of humans; just as it was immediately clear that, in a fair fight, they had no hope against the army created by the invaders. They then developed a different strategy: by gathering all the resources and knowledge available to them, they created a virus.

Biological weapons could not directly reach the Anunnaki, holed up in fortresses equipped with powerful systems of defense and filtering of air and water, but they could hit their armed arm, so the virus was designed to target only the species of jinn: once killed them, the humans would besiege the strongholds, having to do nothing but wait for the oppressors to die of starvation.

Skillfully disseminated all over the globe, the pathogen was not detected at first because it acted in a very subtle way, infecting the host organism and causing damage to the genome that would occur only in the next generation, therefore neither the jinn, nor the Anunnaki realized what was happening until it was too late: upon reaching puberty the endocrine system of the new generations of jinn gradually began to stop functioning, turning off their internal organs one at a time. The Anunnaki were unable to repair the damage caused, or perhaps did not want to waste resources on dealing with it, thinking that they could replace their soldiers when they were unserviceable and underestimating the gravity of the situation. No jinn was able to live beyond twenty-five, thirty years at best, becoming incapable of fighting well before that age; their ability to reproduce was limited by the shortness of their lives and their chances of training sufficiently to become good predators were equally reduced.

The army of the Anunnaki was getting weaker and less numerous, the humans began to gain advantage, inflicting defeats on defeats to the invaders until they forced themselves to barricade themselves in their fortresses that looked more and more like prisons, as the rioters cut their every chance of contacts with the outside world.

First exploited and then betrayed, the jinns saw themselves abandoned to their destiny when the plan of humans finally came to fruition and the Anunnaki left the planet judging it a place that has now become too inhospitable.

At this point something had happened that Altaïr just couldn't understand: some jinn chose to submit to humans. This never ceased to amaze him, as well as making him furious and disgusted by his own species. How had they dared ?!

It seemed that since then there has been an ever deeper split between those who had chosen to submit and those who had not done so: the jinn who had chosen to live under the dominion of men were called _Jinn Muʿaqqibāt_ , while those who had chosen the way to freedom were called J _inn Rajim_. The two factions became more and more intolerant to each other and, within a few generations, they came to a real mutual hatred, also helped by the fact that humans implemented a selection process through targeted pairings aimed at strengthening this resentment so that their domestic jinns protected them from the attacks of the "wild" ones. In exchange for the loyalty of their new minions, humans should have studied a way to reverse the effects of the virus on at least domestic jinns, restoring the normal life span of their lives.

After many attempts they found a way to temporarily stem the problem: by exploiting a mixture of knowledge learned from the Anunnaki and notions that survived from an era before the solar flare, they developed a system that allowed some humans with the right skills to "support" the endocrine system of jinns. In practice one of these particular humans and a jinn could establish a sort of connection through the new devices (to be worn respectively on the wrist and neck) and, in this way, cause stimuli to the production of hormones, neurotransmitters and other substances necessary for life were provided by the first, thus compensating for the inability to generate them of the other. Obviously those who possessed the power to restore strength and health to the jinn began to demand even more unconditional submission and loyalty in exchange for their "support". They began to be called Domini, and promised that this would only be a phase, they would have made every effort to continue their studies aimed at definitively repairing the damage caused by their ancestors.

In some ways Anunnaki and humans did not differ much: Altaïr's predatory abilities (inherited intact from his ancestors) testified to the falsity of the former, the collar he was forced to wear despite the fact that millennia had passed since the beginning of their use, that of the latter.

The jinns' DNA was hopelessly compromised: it was not possible to undo what had been done to them in wartime, the scientists had realized it in a short time. This was why they had concentrated their efforts on the goal of finding an alternative solution, but they were careful not to inform the jinns of this. The news emerged only after centuries, when by now the jinn muʿaqqibāt had changed, selected to be increasingly dependent both physically and psychologically on their respective Domini, and therefore now completely disinterested in the possibility of regaining their independence.

Altaïr sighed, mulling over this and the cruelty of fate that seemed to be raging in every possible way on his species ... and on him in particular. He deviated along a less frequented street when he noticed some police officers patrolling the neighborhood street: at first glance it might seem like a common jinn engaged in his errands, but he knew he could not deceive anyone who had examined him more carefully.

By now there was not much lacking in his destination, so he hurried to concentrate on his assignment, banishing any superfluous thoughts that could distract him and make him make some mistakes: Tamir was not tolerant of those who were wrong.

The apartment suited the tacky tastes of its owner: a riot of gold and stucco, heavy velvet curtains, huge handmade rugs and cushions of precious silk everywhere. The walls were suffocated by a jumble of paintings and sculptures, luxurious furniture were piled up in large numbers and without any precise criteria, thickly covered with shiny trinkets, ultra-modern works of art and antiques from various eras; the colors matched in a cacophonic way, everything was piled up and pressed with the sole aim of exhibiting as many precious objects as possible, regardless of what their style was. In Altaïr, that house remembered the appearance of the treasure caves depicted in children's books, but the dragon guarding that treasure had neither scales nor tail, even if its heart was poisonous like that of a basilisk: Tamir was a Dominus.

Draped on a large sofa full of colored cushions, with his inseparable hookah that accompanied him wherever he went, his face always posed to an evil smile, the man studied him from head to toe and drove out a terrified ʿāmir with which he must have been amused a little earlier, judging by the bleeding marks of numerous lashes that plowed through his body; Altaïr gave him only a brief glance. The ʿimar were the most common of the domestic jinn species; small in size and fragile in construction, they were appreciated for their particularly docile and affectionate character, but were certainly not famous for their strength and robustness. That miserable sobbing creature would not have had a long life in Tamir's clutches.

The ʿifrīt knelt meekly at the foot of the sofa and put the cell phone given to him at the beginning of the mission on the ground, which was promptly collected by another āmir and placed in a locker used to store the different materials to be entrusted to the jinns who went out hunting on behalf of the arms dealer.

Tamir took several slow puffs of smoke, letting the silence fall into the living room and Altaïr let him do it: that he should do whatever he wanted, that he would think what he preferred, that he would order anything. Altaïr had decided to obey him and please him in every possible way, disguising resentment and disgust until the man, feeling confident and confident, had committed a misstep. The collar would have forced him to comply with the orders of the Dominus, who could therefore order him not to harm him and not rebel against him in any way, but he would not have gone into action in the absence of a direct order, or if the latter was not been formulated correctly: the coercive function of the collar was in fact based only half on the elaboration of the master's order, the rest depended on the interpretation given by the jinn itself; the ʿafārīt in particular were notoriously masters in circumventing this system, and Altaïr was no exception.

Tamir interrupted his thoughts by touching him under his chin with a long bamboo stick, streaked in several places on the dried blood of the ʿāmir: "So you completed your mission?"

Altaïr let his chin lift, but kept his eyes respectfully low: "Yes, Sir" he murmured only.

"Where did you kill him?"

"The monumental cemetery, Sir"

Tamir let out a croaking giggle: “Had that fool holed up there? How inept, if I had understood beforehand which idiot he was, I would never have hired him! Is it still there? I mean the body "

"Yes, Sir"

Tamir nodded to himself and poured himself a glass of wine with a pleased air, taking several seconds to savor it before returning his attention to the ʿifrīt with a thoughtful attitude: "And tell me Altaïr, why did you take so long to catch him?"

Dominus had set the sentence because he wanted to see fear and surprise in the jinn's eyes; Altaïr was only disgusted, but he reminded himself that any act of submission would bring him closer to his golden opportunity, then he impeccably played his part, leaping with guilty air at the right time: “I underestimated his ability to hide, I fear "He murmured lowering his head as if he was overwhelmed with shame, then added plaintively:" And the cold does not help, Sir. It's been very cold lately "

Tamir's reply came as soon as the last syllable came out of the ʿifrīt's lips, in the form of a violent lash that hit the cheekbone and the ear; Altaïr avoided losing his balance by placing one hand on the floor, his cheek burning furiously and he felt the blow rumbling fiercely in his temple. _Old bastard, the first mistake you make_ ...: "Forgive me, Sir" he murmured instead.

"Forgive you?" the arms dealer repeated with a surprised attitude: "But, my boy, if I granted you forgiveness so easily, what could you ever learn about it?" he added leaning forward and gently touching his healthy cheek to make him raise his head once more: "Look at me" he ordered.

Altaïr obeyed.

The man's wrinkled face opened in one of his obscene smiles: "What beautiful eyes you have Altaïr, none of my amber gems has this wonderful shade" he chirped running his thumb over the injured cheekbone, just below the left eye, and snatching a subdued hiss of pain from the jinn: "One day I might decide to do some madness for these eyes"

Yes, he always said it; Altaïr had to appeal to all his self-control so as not to roll his eyes in disgust.

“However, we can't let the owner of such a perfect pair of eyes behave so badly, don't you think? I speak for your sake, my boy. What do you say?"

"You told me to come back at the end of the third day, Sir, only two passed and ..." A slap interrupted his protest by hitting the already abused cheek and snatching another hiss.

“How many excuses… We are not here, Altaïr. We are not quite there "began the man starting to walk slowly around the kneeling jinn; obviously it was just an excuse: even if he returned only an hour after being unleashed for the hunt, Tamir would have staged this stupid performance. The old man seemed to enjoy these pantomimes immensely… well, they wouldn't last much longer.

“I am very worried about you, boy. I am afraid that lately you are resting on your laurels and that, consequently, you are becoming a little negligent in carrying out your tasks. You are certainly aware of how much it costs me to rent you every time; Al-Mualim would certainly not be happy to discover that a jinn to whom he has granted the honor of such a high price beats the limp "Meanwhile Tamir was explaining calmly, without stopping to walk around the ʿifrīt:" And you don't want to become lazy and sloppy, right? "

"No, Sir"

"Well," Dominus smirked as he nodded to one of the jinns who served him to bring him his correction tools: the bamboo cane would break soon and he would need something else to complete his lesson .

"Being a very caring Dominus, I will bear the burden of your correction, instead of telling your master about your laziness: it will be our little secret. You're happy? Besides, I know how much you like the way I teach you, don't I? "

_I'd like to split that damned head, rather!_ He would have liked to spit Altaïr, but he could not; however, if he really had to choose, it was better to be "correct" by Tamir as disgusting as it was: the bastard had the lightest hand of his true master: "Yes, Sir. Thank you Sir"

"Well," Dominus smiled. "I expect correct behavior, boy."

Altaïr nodded, secretly pleased; _correct behavior?_ the old man was beginning to give more general orders. He would soon forget or make a mistake in making an order. It would have been his last mistake.

Tamir was now standing in front of him: "Get up and get undressed"


	2. Legatus Legionis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to make this chapter less boring, but it was necessary to explain a little the universe in which the characters move ... sorry, in the next chapter I will do better XD

Excluding the flight approach, any visitor would have had the first glimpse of the Masyaf military complex from the same point of view of a subject who observes his conqueror: from below, with the colossus that looms severely.

The complex had been built at the point where the valley, where New Babylon stood, raised up connecting to the mountains; half perched on the walls of the massif guarding the pass that gave access to the valley, half lying in the hilly area at its feet. Against the brownish gray background of stone and green of vegetation, its structure stood out sparkling with steel and white walls with the same terrifying beauty as the open jaws of a mastiff; the tongue of dark asphalt that guests used to reach the gates of the complex was flanked by low walls of selenite which protected a core of pure halite inside them. They were a deceptively modest barrier against any wild creature that inhabited the forests around: the rajim-type jinn, as well as most of the fiercest creatures created by the Anunnaki, shared in fact a disconcerting weakness towards this opalescent, fragile stone; contact with the skin burned them severely, but usually these creatures preferred to avoid even getting close to it because of its annoying magnetic interactions which for them were like a wasp sting straight in the brain.

The plants, on the other hand, were not afraid of any stone and besieged the road on both sides with a riot of green leaves that began to be tinged with bright autumn colors and brown trunks, interspersed here and there by stylizes of fragrant late blooms of undergrowth and white spears of the trunks of birches. Oaks and alders, but also lime and acacia trees crowded the edges of the road, joining the tips of their branches in the sky above the road, forming a shaded gallery of green arms adorned with moss garlands.

It was easy to forget where the path ended, enchanted by the relaxing colors and sounds of the forest, so the backlash that you received when you came across the first guard ramparts of the complex was almost a physical impact: suddenly fangs rose from the foliage of white stone and polished steel. The two towers rose above the blanket of the forest, while the asphalt tongue continued, widening and ending in the first real gate of the complex, beyond which the cacophonic mixture of forms and colors of an uncontaminated nature, gave way to an orderly and rational division of spaces between buildings and streets, carefully cultivated small parks and meticulously designed training areas. Ordered, however multifaceted, it was also the population that moved in those spaces: jinns, _domini_ and simple humans shared the space, each busy and concentrated on his own tasks; the sand-colored uniforms of the former mingled with the dark blue ones of the latter, and the lead-colored uniforms of ordinary humans.

The structure was divided into four sectors, all connected by the main avenue, each with gates to divide it from the others. The lowest and largest, lying in the most flat area, was the one that most often housed civilians, being the one populated by the least dangerous jinns: the Damascus Division was in fact specialized in the transport of troops and logistics, it employed large māridūn mostly, chosen among the least aggressive and were mostly trained to move heavy weights thanks to their extraordinary strength.

The highest one, perched among the stone ramparts of the mountains, was the one defending the future of the legion: the recruits in training. The Academy hosted elderly jinns, almost at the end of their careers, who could help the novices with their experience in their training. In the highest area of the academy, then, a small area was reserved for the residence and office of General Rashid-Al-Sinad, who managed the entire legion of Al-Hashīshiyyūn.

Immediately below the Academy there were two sectors, one of which was the Acree Division; its members ran a military hospital, provided medical assistance during missions, and handled and managed the jinns that no one would have ever wanted to be around. They were called ghouls, they were jinn who had lost their senses, turning into dangerous predators whose only purpose was to tear apart anything that moved. Usually they did not have a long life, but the Acree division at least managed to make them spend a dignified existence for the short time they had left.

But it was the sector immediately next to the latter that was the most famous, dangerous, inaccessible, and talked about in the entire military complex: the Jerusalem Division; in that place the combat jinns of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn corps were trained, the most elite and powerful of the army special units. Beyond the always carefully monitored and strictly closed gates there were a series of buildings and fences; in one of those buildings, on the highest floor and with a large window that allowed to control the whole sector from above, there was a spacious office. Inside the office, Colonel Malìk Al-Sayf was preparing for an unusual and not exactly tempting task for him. So he wasn't in the best of moods ... well, not that this was new anyway: it's no coincidence that his nickname was _The Dobermann_.

That the dark and short hair was neat and the face perfectly shaved there was no need to check it, so Malìk didn't waste time doing it. The dark blue uniform, decorated with an ancient cream-colored motif, was not the elegant one reserved for big occasions, but a training one: a jacket with several pockets and the hood with a front tip, typical of the body of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn (as well as reminiscent, like the symbols embroidered above it, from times remote but never forgotten), tactical pants equally generously equipped with pockets (the exact reason why there should be so many of them, still eluded Malìk's understanding) and high boots reinforced with plaques crushproof kevlar but above all jinn claw proof. It was fine for what he had to do, also because Colonel Al-Sayf was a busy and pragmatic man and just didn't see the reason to waste time changing to wear something more formal, given that after having fulfilled the task that awaited him, he had a tough training session planned. The black leather leash did not end in a ring to be handled like the classic ones, and it was also longer; then Malìk had had to wrap it around himself several times before securing it to one of the belts that encircled his hips so that it did not dangle over his knee, hindering his movements. Even his gun and knife would accompany him, stored in their holsters; perhaps they would not have given him the reassuring and friendly aspect that his guests would have preferred, but he did not care what simple civilians thought of him: they might as well have learned to know him immediately.

After a final, quick check on the armored bracelet which secured the blade concealed on his left forearm and which was the most precious symbol of his army body, he picked up from the desk the folders with the notes and cards he had prepared and prepared to leave his kingdom to head to the lower sector, where the starting lesson of the course was to take place, which honor and respect for traditions obliged him to preside.

It wasn't that he expected much, but those present in the small classroom still managed to disappoint him as soon as he entered the door. To begin with because they were more rowdy than a schoolchild during the year-end trip.

He silently made his way to the desk and dropped the papers he had brought on top of it, while a silence full of anticipation fell among those present. Despite his thirty years just turned, Malìk already had considerable experience in the war field and his eye well trained by the numerous missions in which he had taken part had caught, already from the first quick glance, a considerable amount of information on his students: he had a fairly precise idea of who to keep an eye on, who would almost certainly create unrest, who would get into trouble and who didn't have what it takes to access the final exam. Getting to know the enemy's strengths and weaknesses immediately had been one of the most important lessons he had learned in training, as well as the one that had allowed him to make his way through the ranks of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn in record time.

He turned to his class and leaned against the desk with his hips, crossing his arms and ankles: "This is a military complex that houses an elite legion" he began with a low voice and a stern look, sounding all those present: "the discipline and seriousness are one of the basic requirements for anyone who wishes to approach this army corps. From the next lesson I expect to never see the show you gave before again: you will reach the classroom in silence and neatly, as well as in silence and neatly await my arrival. I've been clear?"

In the buzz of assent that spread a couple of "Sir, yes Sir!" Malìk did not like them at all: “And we also avoid making ourselves ridiculous with pathetic caricature repropositions of military responses. We are not on television and our jinns do not like shouting: for your safety I invite you to keep a tone of voice appropriate. By the way, good morning "

This time the answer was more orderly and uniform, but Malìk mentally pinned the face of the two _domini_ that had launched into the first one, too zealous, an answer because neither of them would have come to take the final exam: they would have attacked by one of the jinn, they would have made some trouble and would have been expelled or perhaps they would have withdrawn ... otherwise he would have had to make sure to mow them himself. He would not have allowed two such elated people to freely enter Masyaf.

Well, it could start now.

"I am Colonel Malìk Al-Sayf of the Jerusalem Division of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn Corps," he explained. Many of the students exchanged confused and impressed looks at hearing the notorious Jerusalem Division named, so he continued: "I am aware of how you expected the course to be held by Sergeant Yildirim of the Damascus Division, who presided over the admission interviews and who had the task of managing this kind of initiative. Unfortunately neither he nor his jinn are among us anymore. Since I was one of his pupils and, among them, the highest grade, the task of managing the course will be up to me, as tradition, until it will be possible to select a new employee for courses for civil assistants ... which, however, will not happen over the course of this year, therefore it is legitimate for you not to expect to be pardoned in the examination by someone more magnanimous than me "he stopped to allow time for his students to assimilate his words then he continued:" As already you should know your task as voluntary civilian assistants will be to take care of the management of the free time of our jinn, especially those who do not have the sufficient requirements to be reintegrated into external society and therefore cannot leave the structure without supervision. However, you will have to get out of your mind that your only task will be to play with giant size kittens: the jinns that are trained here, regardless of the division they belong to, are mainly soldiers. They cannot and should not be treated as you would treat an āmir ... or at least not if you want to go home with all your limbs in their place "

Some subdued nervous giggles spread throughout the room: “We will begin by tracing the basic guidelines: the most important rule is to always maintain a demeanor and discipline suited to the place where you are. No matter what you are doing or in the company of whom, jinns will never ever have to associate you with the idea of vulnerability. Always remember that all the jinns who are here have a turbulent past, that they are aggressive if not evil, and that their instinct for predation is often very strong. Don't be too permissive. Don't run away from them. Never. Always stay focused and finally, make sure that your appearance reflects characteristics that they are used to associating with the idea of authority. " he walked away from the desk and began to walk around the students' desks: "not to mention that you will be part of the image of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn army corps, therefore you must reflect our concept of decorum. I expect, from the next lesson, hair tied or styled in a practical way "he listed passing by a girl with a complicated and showy hairstyle adorned with shiny tinsel that seemed to be put there specifically to be clawed and torn:" No fluttering or uncomfortable clothes, not we are at a fashion show and believe me if I tell you that it will not be for your style that some of our boys will let themselves be dominated "he went on pinching the wide sleeve of another student:" No cell phones "he snarled, taking out from the hands of a third boy the phone and placing it on his desk with the screen facing down: "obviously no heels and ... miss, don't you know that this course is reserved for _domini_?" he paused, stopping beside a fourth student's desk.

Obviously the girl was a _Domina_ : Malìk perceived her energy clearly, with his question however he intended to underline how and why there were certain rules. Of course, his students would soon have had several practical tests, as soon as they had the first contacts with the combat jinns, but the aforementioned tests could be lethal in some cases; therefore Malìk particularly cared that at least the basic rules of behavior were very clear. The mutilation of a civilian in the end-of-day report would not have been very good.

The young woman dressed in a somewhat weird but not incorrect way, even if the shoes of an absurd bright red were something that certainly Malìk would have gladly left in the shop window from which they came. A pair of headphones hung on his neck but nothing dangled from his belt.

"I am a _Domina_ " she pointed out confused.

"So why don't I see a leash hanging on your belt, miss ...?"

"Rebecca, Rebecca Crane. I didn't think it was necessary: on the course program it is written that we will not have contact with the jinn for the first month ... "

Malìk sighed: "Miss Crane, as I just explained the visual impact is important to ensure a good safety margin in dealing with our boys. They know that Domains have recognizable characteristics, characteristics that signal their rank on a par with what is displayed on a uniform with the degrees of the wearer. Not reflecting these standards could push them to put strange ideas in their heads, and as is well known, the average jinn has a reaction capacity considerably superior to that of a human being; therefore we would not be physically able to stop a jinn who decides to make it look like a plate of kebab. The only way to be safe is to prevent an attack. Not to mention that I consider strongly inappropriate the fashion of not wearing a leash on your belt even if you are a _dominus_ that is spreading in the city "

Rebecca chuckled: "Come on, they're just domestic jinns! The cases in which they attack a _Dominus_ of their own spontaneous start are counted on the fingers of one hand "

This was a problem: these people were too accustomed to dealing with harmless jinn and didn’t perceive the danger, Malìk realized: "Have you ever been to the zoosafari?"

"Just because I was forced into it," Rebecca snorted in disgust.

"In the lions' enclosure?"

“Of course, unfortunately. Poor creatures "

"Did you get out of the car?"

Rebecca laughed: "I love animals, but I'm not crazy!"

"Why didn't you do it? They are just felines. Not very different from domestic cats "

"Oh…"

"The belt leash and appropriate behavior will be the car that will protect you on this safari, Miss Crane. Trust me "Malìk assured her by tickling the sleeve of his right arm and showing an impressive series of bite and scratch scars.

"At the end of the course, for those who arrive there, it will be possible to express a preference for the assignment of the division in which to serve. I will make sure that you have the opportunity to visit all four divisions, but I remind you that the last word regarding that assignment will be the prerogative of the colonels in command of the divisions. For the moment, my advice is not to get preconceived ideas and to work hard to get a high score on the tests, so as to ensure a good basic preparation "

Once the murmur of assent from the class had subsided, Malìk began the actual lesson. The first lessons were real boredom, made up of legal notions, internal regulations, explanations on the layout of the various buildings and on who and how he could access where. He wondered how Sergeant Yildirim did love this kind of thing so much.

When the lesson was over, it was therefore with enormous relief that he hurried back to his office to prepare for a much more pleasant task, namely training with his boys. A task that apparently would have to wait longer.

“And with this, there are four. In less than a month. " was the phrase that accompanied the landing of a voluminous and disordered file on Malík's desk, taking him by surprise and making him look towards the storm in human form that had just broken into his office. Without notice and without permission. Again.

"Detective Thorpe, please take a seat," he sighed, sitting behind his desk and leaning back against the back: "tell me, you've finally come to explain to me how you manage to evade the plethora of control posts, guards, common sense and respect, put specifically to keep civilians out of what would actually be a military zone? " the sarcasm that dripped from his voice might not have been the most professional attitude, but Malík had definitely exhausted any reserve of patience towards the persistent policewoman.

Unfortunately for him, if Maria Thorpe had been the kind of person sensitive to sarcasm or hateful attitudes she could never have become the able detective she was, so she just smiled fiercely and took a seat on one of the chairs in front of Malík: “Leaving aside the fact that I am not a civilian, but a police officer… They have all been carried out by the same hand: a jinn, a large one. We are sure and also ... "

Malík rolled his eyes in exasperation, interrupting her: “I know, you've already told me. And I have already explained to you that I cannot grant you access to our archives: this is confidential information, protected by military secret "

“I suspect it was a soldier who trained this jinn. The victims are all domains, and have been killed quickly and cleanly. The killer doesn't hesitate in front of a _Dominus_ like a normal jinn, he acts like one of those who train you here. "

“I also know this. As I said at least a thousand times, however, you would not find anything that can help you: our jinns are always monitored carefully, even after leaving the active service; there is no possibility that one of them was used to commit such actions "

"If you have nothing to hide then you have nothing to keep secret" Maria replied dryly without being discouraged: she would not have gone away once again with empty hands: "Colonel, I am simply asking you to collaborate in the investigations" he sighed therefore trying to mitigate the tone of the discussion: “If it is not possible to access the archives I need to have at least the reports of the internal investigations that you have carried out. Good heavens, all you sent us was a sentence! "

Malík admired the woman's tenacity: Maria Thorpe was charming, sharp and determined; unfortunately, she was also terribly stubborn and apparently allowed herself to be too influenced by chatter. Obviously his insistence on finding the murderous jinn among those who served in the ranks of Al-Hashīshiyyūn was mainly motivated by the widespread diffidence of public opinion towards his division, which was one of the few to train and use jinns in the war . The types of jinn that were bred for this purpose were among the most aggressive and powerful, and the secret surrounding their every activity had given rise to many conspiracy theories that had taken hold considerably in recent times; explanations of how secrecy was necessary to protect the members of the body themselves and to allow them to act in the best possible way against terrorist organizations or organized crime, had not been able to stem the slander. Malík could do little to improve the opinion the rest of the world had about his body, and he usually didn't give too much weight to the nonsense he heard about, but he expected a different attitude from the police.

"Detective, I have received precise orders and I am obliged from my position to follow a certain protocol" he replied patiently: "you must understand that one of my main tasks is to protect the privacy of the jinn who operate under my command. Here only specimens are used that come from kidnappings committed against very powerful criminal organizations, and I do not think it is necessary to explain to you how that kind of people don’t like to be deprived of creatures of similar value. They are willing to do anything to take them back and disseminate information about their history or their identity, it risks jeopardizing their safety as well as that of the entire Masyaf barracks "

"You are insulting the entire police force in doubting the correct use of the information we ask for"

"Your interpretation of my intent does not concern me, I only care that you stop suddenly appearing in my office making me lose time and concentration; do you even have a vague idea of how difficult it is to manage an entire Military Division? "

Maria sighed and sank back against the back of the chair: "is this yet another _no_ ?"

Malík sighed again: "Detective, I assure you that we have done everything in our power to help your investigations, we cannot do more without endangering our jinns" Malík assured her: "our absolute availability remains valid the capture of the criminal behind these crimes and the containment of the jinn, but finding them is something that you must do _outside_ this barracks. "

The _domina_ 's fleshy lips tightened in an irritated line: "it doesn't end here" he snarled, getting up and recovering the file that Malík hadn't even opened.

The door to his office had been closed for less than a minute and Malík had just managed to put on his protective training gloves when someone else broke into the room. This time, however, it was a welcome presence: Major Yusuf Tazim was a close friend of Malík even outside the military.

"I just had a dejà vue, Colonel: Matrix is changing something"

Malík chuckled at the quote from his friend who loved cinema too much and used to use film quotes in practically every conversation: "No agent in sight, Major, just an extraordinarily stubborn woman"

Yusuf leaned back to peer into the corridor: "I would like that woman to pester me in the same way: I would have a couple of blows to do in exchange for the right payment" he grinned.

"Please Major, avoid saying such nonsense"

"Still for the murders?"

Malìk nodded: "she is convinced that the culprit could be a jinn trained by a soldier, one of ours"

"And what do you think of it?"

Malìk sighed letting his eyes follow the profile of the valley sliding into the city and took a moment to reflect: "I think we are late for today's training session, Major"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredible that you resisted, continuing to read this far! Thanks for your patience, I know it was boring, but some action will start from the next chapter. I would like to take this opportunity to make you a proposal: my idea is to use Malìk's lessons to better explain what the jinns of this alternative universe are and how they behave. I would therefore like to insert your questions about them in the story, so that Malìk himself can answer, therefore, if you are curious or have doubts, I invite you to send me your questions. Thank you very much and see you soon!


	3. Quod excedit limites part 1

Altaïr was hardly so nervous when he was rented to another dominus by his owner, but with Jubair it was different: for five years he had waited, endured and patiently been there; today he intended to take the first step on the path of revenge.

Jubair was the ideal first target: he was a trafficker of archaeological treasures, always intent on unearthing some ancient artifact or organizing its sale for exorbitant amounts of money. He appeared and vanished at will, leaving no traces and without anyone ever figuring out where he would return the next time. If he had disappeared without reappearing for a while, nobody would have been interested in the matter too much ... as long as he did it together with his faithful gang of profaners of graves, of course. Meanwhile enough time would have passed to prevent connections between Altaïr and the disappearance of his victim.

It was too tempting an opportunity for the ifrīt to miss: Jubair had rented him for a whole week with the intent to use him as a bodyguard and to clear the archaeological site he intended to plunder from any dangers. Altaïr was very expensive, but the site in question was beyond the limes, and it was an extremely dangerous place, for which any ifrīt wasn’t enough.

One of the first problems to examine was that his mere fighting prowess wouldn’t ensure his salvation from Jubair's relentless and cruel punishments, and Altaïr had to be at his best at the moment he would deliver the killing blow: the fighting that he would certainly have had to face against the monstrosities that lived in the place where he was going, would have tried his strength enough. Then he carefully prepared for the meeting with the dominus, after Talal, the head of the domini in charge of managing the jinn owned by Al-Mualim, had come to communicate the news of his new tenant. He wanted to be able to present himself in the best way in order to be sure to please Jubair and make him as benevolent as possible towards him.

He was completing the finishing touches to the khol lines with which he had underlined the contours of his eyes, when the sound of soft footsteps and that of the hinges of the door of his room, startled him with a threatening snarl that was already boiling in his chest; however, he immediately shook off the tension, realizing who had interrupted him: only one of the jinns of Al-Mualim's harem dared to approach him so much for no more than valid reason, and that jinn was Rauf.

Small, even by ʿāmir standards, Rauf had arrived in the New Babylon harem on the same day as Altaïr, about six months earlier. However, while ʿifrīt had been born and raised in that distorted and cruel world, trained in one of the harems that Al-Mualim possessed around the world, and transferred to New Babylon to steal him from local police investigations, Rauf had been kidnapped to the love of a family that was later barbarously exterminated. Against all expectations, the little āmir had survived the trauma, had managed to adapt to life outside the protection of the law and, from the first moment he arrived in the harem of New Babylon, he had worked tirelessly to earn, if not friendship, at least Altaïr's tolerance.

The thing that surprised the other jinns as much as Altaïr himself was that, damn, he was succeeding.

Altaïr was avoided by the other jinns not only because of his well-known temper, but also because of his "impure blood" as many had defined him: he was in fact a hybrid between a Muʿaqqibāt ʿifrīt, the domestic jinns, and one Rajim type, the wild. The hostility between the two types of jinn was as strong as that between a dog and a wolf and a hybrid like him constantly found himself in the unpleasant and dangerous situation of being too wild to be accepted by domestic jinns and too domestic for the wild to tolerate him , which certainly had not helped to mitigate his diffident and grumpy soul. Rauf's behavior, which had stuck to his tail immediately and had not given up even in the face of Altaïr's fiercest threats, had left him puzzled; the turning point in their relationship had been the response of the little āmir to his annoyed request for an explanation for his behavior: "I was dragged to hell, Altaïr" he had explained shyly but with extreme seriousness: "And you, you are the demon more fierce and feared than this place: none of the other jinn dares to challenge you and even some of the guardians fear you and avoid attracting your resentment ... so ... well ... I thought that, since this hell will be my new home, better be the right arm of his most feared inhabitant, rather than being in his way ... not to mention that I don't think you are really as evil as everyone says "he added with a nervous laugh.

Rauf was a very intelligent ʿāmir, a quality that any ʿifrīt admired above all others, and his reasoning had sincerely impressed Altaïr, pushing him to mitigate his attitude towards the small ʿāmir. In addition, as annoying as it was to admit, Rauf had proved to be a useful ally: his intelligence, combined with an innocent smile and a reassuring and tender appearance, allowed him to get a lot of things that otherwise would have been practically impossible to obtain for Altaïr, also taking care of him with a devotion he had never experienced. Becoming fond of little ʿāmir had been a new and in some ways frightening experience for the warlike ʿifrīt.

"Hi, um ... look, I ... are you really going to be away for a week?" Rauf peeped leaning against the door jamb still ajar.

"I already told you that you must learn to close the door, once you enter, Rauf" was all Altaïr replied from the beginning.

The ʿāmir obeyed and waited silently, Altaïr could feel the weight of the pleading eyes that were surely staring at him; oh, why did he always have to behave in such a pathetic way ?!

"Nobody will hurt you in the harem, you know. Continue to be obedient and work as always when you're on duty. Talal won't bother you if you don't get noticed. "

"Actually I'm worried about you ... I mean ... a whole week beyond the limes? It's ... it's very dangerous ... and ... "

"Rauf, stop hesitating like that while you talk, you know it gets on my nerves"

The ʿāmir sighed and crouched on the floor next to Altaïr, reaching out to help him adjust the hood, passing his horns through the slots specially made in the fabric: “The ruins of the Holocaust era are home to a flood of lethals creatures, and in addition I fear that you have in mind to do something stupid "

Yes, Rauf was definitely a smart jinn.

“You don't have to worry about this. Think about surviving until I get back. "Altaïr cut short, standing up and walking away towards the common courtyard:" uh, you're going to sleep here alone, until I come back. Sleeping in other rooms could be dangerous for you, "he ordered before leaving the room.

Talal was waiting for him at the entrance of the underground passageway that connected the shabby harem where the Al-Mualim jinns were kept prisoners with the opulent mansion where he and his closest collaborators resided. There were no words exchanged with the chief of the guardians, Altaïr meekly let Talal tie his hands behind his back and hook the leash to the collar, then follow the dominus in the dark tunnel; his silence wasn’t only due to the fact that he wanted to avoid incurring any punishment, annoying his masters with an unsolicited phrase or even a sound: Altaïr had his head annoyingly occupied by thoughts that should not have distracted him at that moment and who hoped to be able to unravel before his departure for the archaeological site beyond the limes.

He was worried, worried about Rauf ... since when did he worry about someone? That is, there had been someone he had actually worried about, and it didn't end well. It was why he was in that situation: Adha.

Just recalling her name and the image of that smile, as sweet as it was cunning, caused him a stab of pain in his chest. If he had met Rauf five years earlier, perhaps he would have been naive enough to let himself be conquered by the friendly ʿāmir, but now he couldn’t afford it. He would never again make the mistake of trusting any jinn or dominus, he would never again have the luxury of hoping for a future that didn’t include blood and revenge. Yet he couldn’t force himself to remove the little ʿāmir. He had been weak, he had made a mistake. On his return, he would have to come to terms with the matter and remove the little ʿāmir from his life ... or kill him. He could do it quickly and painlessly indeed: Rauf wouldn't even have noticed, and it would have been better for him rather than finding himself in a situation like the one Adha had encountered.

_Her fingers were delicate as she touched the surface of his horns: "What strange horns you have Altaïr" she chuckled. He didn't bother to answer, too busy purring satisfied while the girl's fingers went down following the profile of one of the golden streaks and ran through his hair: "I will find you a master, one who has enough strength to support you . I'm not powerful enough to do it, but a Headlight would be able to. You will see that everything will be fine, trust me "_

_Altaïr narrowed his eyes, his purring stopped: "I don't want other masters, I want to be free ... or belong to you"_

_Adha chuckled, pulled him closer, gently brushing his throat and holding him with her other arm: "Your freedom would last, at most, a couple of hours, you know. The collars that always made you wear those horrible people have destroyed you much more than the natural course of events would have done, you have become too dependent on them; you would only live a few hours without the support of a powerful enough dominus "_

_“So be it. Better than a life like this "_

_Adha held him even harder: “No Altaïr. I don't mean to allow it. You will live, and this is an order. You will live and be happy one day. If I can't have you, then I'll make it the best dominus in the world to own you. Clear?"_

_Altaïr nodded; he didn't agree, he didn't want her to embark on a similar adventure, he shouldn't have challenged Al-Mualim, not for him ... but he couldn't say no. There simply was no word of her that he wished to counter. Adha was ... different from his other masters, had no power over him, at least in theory, yet there was no thing Altaïr would have denied her._ In hindsight he should have found the strength to do it.

"Well well, here is our little jewel then" chirped Abu'l's hateful voice, snatching it from his thoughts. He was officially the owner of the rich villa where Al-Mualim also resided, but he was only a figurehead in reality: it was the mysterious man who possessed real power and managed everything, always remaining in the shadows and letting Abu'l take care of it to maintain relationships with customers, obviously following his directives, and dealt with the financial management of the immense fortunes of his property. Altaïr had never even seen his face, even though he had belonged to him since birth: he always presented himself only wrapped in long black tunics, his face covered with onyx masks, his aura deformed and shielded by special devices; it was impossible even for the most skilled of the jinn to really understand who or what was hidden in that dark cocoon.

As usual, Al-Mualim wasn’t present; in the living room there were only Abu'l, and Jubair.

Talal informed him of the order to kneel with a tug on a leash and Altaïr obeyed without hesitation. He then remained motionless with his gaze respectfully on the ground while the chief of the guardians folded his leash and rested it on his shoulder, before taking his leave.

Jubair raised an eyebrow: "It's improved I see"

Abu'l chuckled: "Yes, isn't it? The Mentor did a lot of work to correct his character defects after that ... ahem ... unpleasant accident he caused. It seems that our jewel has finally understood what his place is and what behavior to take. As I said in our phone call, he is now an excellent specimen from all points of view "

"A specimen whose price has been _greatly_ raised"

Abu'l squeaked greasily at the graves raider's comment: "Oh, but my dear friend, his increased value made his price increase indispensable; he's proving to be a real portent, you know? You have certainly read the report about the results he has achieved. The Mentor is very proud of what he has managed to achieve: with this weapon at your side you will not run any risk, I assure you ... of course, if you cannot afford his rent we have other specimens to offer ... "

Jubair interrupted his interlocutor's meows with a loud snort: "I didn't say I couldn't afford it" he blurted out: "I hope, however, that it has really improved as you say, and that the amount you ask for is worth it"

Abu'l chuckled and leaned out of his chair to raise Altaïr's chin, who paid attention to keeping his eyes respectfully lowered: "Oh, my dear, dear friend, Altaïr will certainly leave you stunned with his behavior and his talents. Isn't he so boy? " he concluded by addressing the ʿifrīt directly: "you intend to show everyone how much you've changed and surprise Jubair, isn't it?"

Altaïr's eyes twinkled, he didn't need to lie when he replied respectfully: "Absolutely yes, Sir", moreover Jubair would certainly have been surprised to achieve what Altaïr was capable of, once his plan was triggered ... Although perhaps not he would have done it the way fat dominus intended. He didn’t even struggle to show off a smile with which to season his performance, imagining how much pleasure he would get from sinking his claws into the flesh of the first victim sacrificed to wash away the sin committed against his beloved Adha.

During the last phase of the bargaining of his price and the subsequent payment of the advance on it he remained motionless, respectfully silent and dignifiedly composed, playing his part perfectly, but now his mind was no longer distracted by thoughts about anyone who were not Jubair and the method he would have used to lighten the world of his presence. The lust for action had made him tense and impatient, like before a hunt.

The subsequent transfer, hidden in the secret compartment inside the trailer of a truck to the limes, the preparations for the exit from the safe area delimited by the retaining wall of selenite, everything was recorded only partially by the brain of the ʿifrīt, obsessed with the sudden craving that had caught him. He managed to remain impassive and obedient, but barely sensed the contact with reality: in his mind only Jubair shone in a world otherwise I would become gray and tasteless. It was tempting, inviting, Altaïr could almost feel the taste of his blood on the palate, anticipated the creaking of the vertebrae that would break under his claws; his eyes couldn’t detach from his moving body, devoured by the desire to make it perfectly, wonderfully immobile.

He was shaking, but not because of the cold, when he was finally let down by the vehicle that had hidden him from the possible controls of the authorities: Altaïr was a jinn whose detention was illegal as a hybrid and, being born out of the control of the law, he was not had never been registered in any registry archive; if he had been discovered in someone's possession, that someone would certainly have gone through a lot of trouble. Only once he had passed the limes a sufficient distance to ensure the complete lack of nosy had he been freed.

Jubair turned to him only then; for the dominus, in fact, Altaïr was only a tool rented to complete his project, so he used to remember him only when he had served him. He hadn’t even bothered to feed or make him drink: the ʿifrīt would have to get by if he wanted to get food and water. Many of the domini that Altaïr had known saw jinn in that way, the others ... well, perhaps, on balance, Altaïr preferred those who treated it as a weapon over those who appreciated it for other purposes.

Kneeling in front of what would soon become his prey, Altaïr allowed himself to meekly remove his muzzle and unhook the bonds that blocked his limbs.

Finally, Jubair removed the leash and touched the bracelet to which the collar of the ʿifrīt was linked: the device unlocked the last of the restrictions to which he was subjected. All species of jinn could change the shape of their body, although not all of them could take equally dangerous forms. Normally they were two: the one called "gathered" was the most similar to the human one, foreseeing as differences the presence of horns, tail, highly developed canine teeth and pupil shape similar to that of a cat, as well as a third eyelid, of dark color, which provided additional eye protection. The one defined instead as "winged", was the one that expressed the maximum of the offensive potential of the jinn: it provided, in addition to the differences of the "gathered" form, a mutation of the lower limbs that assumed a digitigrade posture, with the metatarsals elongated and the last two fingers merged so as to create a three-finger paw that supported the weight of the body. In the ʿafārīt and māridūn the big toe was shorter, so as to always keep a large sickle-shaped spur raised from the ground, used to block prey by skewering it. The extremities of the limbs were protected by an armature of keratinized scales that went up beyond the elbows and knees and ended distally with robust claws, while the base of the tail widened creating space for the caudal feathers. Certainly, however, the most impressive mutation was the wings which, for the ʿafārīt in particular, were something really impressed. The Altaïr ones were really huge, having inherited them from the Rajim branch of his genealogy: with an opening that reached almost nine meters, they were covered with ivory-colored feathers, embellished with brown and beige streaks, while the remiges feathers sported an iridescent gold color.

The control devices installed in the collar of Altaïr allowed his conductor to limit him to one of the two forms and it didn’t happen very often lately that he was allowed to take on his winged form, too dangerous in the opinion of many. Jubair, on the contrary, needed to have the maximum offensive capacity of the ʿifrīt and released him from the last restriction without hesitation, so he set about dictating the order that would be registered as binding for Altaïr in the following days.

All domini were taught how to use their innate abilities to constrain the will of a jinn, but it was essential to always pay close attention to two factors: the first was the actual power of the dominus, and the second was the verbal form in which the order was expressed. In fact, not all domains were equally powerful and this difference translated into a greater or lesser duration of the effect of the order given as well as the firmness with which it was able to take root in the jinn's mind. The verbal form in which the order was given was equally important: the collar system was only able to manage it based on the jinn's perception of the order. The ʿafārīt in particular were renowned for their habit and ability to distort the interpretation of the orders given, but Jubair seemed not to care too much at the time of formulating his command, too distracted by the thought of the riches that awaited him at the chosen excavation site, or perhaps because, considering Altaïr only a barely sentient object, he simply hadn’t considered him capable of somehow sabotaging his mission.

Instead, it would have been wiser for Jubair remember these details to himself before going to work because, as Jubair's words flowed, Altaïr immediately felt their lack of power; the order was not badly formulated, but the constraint it imposed was rather fragile and soon it would begin to crumble. The ʿifrīt paused to reflect for a moment: he had remembered him more powerful, as dominus. It could mean that his health was undermined by some disease that had also affected his dominus power, or that Altaïr had become stronger but, in any case, this would have made it easier for him turn around at the right time. All he had to do was make sure that Jubair didn’t realize the matter too soon, perhaps by increasing the frequency with which he renewed his command, thus nullifying the advantage of the ʿifrīt.

There were only a couple of encounters with potentially dangerous predators during the approach to the destination site, encounters which resolved, however, without an actual clash fortunately, and the peaceful journey allowed Altaïr to study the sequel of Jubair: there were a dozen of men and as many jinns, almost all domestic ʿafārīt and māridūn. They were capable fighters, but not excellent; specialized more in sneaking away from threats than in direct confrontation. Everyone should have died; it was a pity but he considered their departures to be more than tolerable collateral damage. Those not killed by the beasts hiding in the decrepit recesses of the Holocaust ruins that they would have violated would have found their end on his claws. It was enough to hit them gradually, one by one, first isolating each victim so that he didn’t alert the others; or, much more simply, to lure them into the jaws of some nearby predator who did the job for him. He was therefore extremely surprised and disappointed when he arrived at his destination and realized, after a rapid exploration, that there seemed to be no danger whatsoever. There was something strange in the air, a kind of tension: an aura of unhealthy, depressing oppression that weighed on the area, but the ʿifrīt was unable to identify a real danger or even the trace of some threat.

After carefully examining the surroundings of the camp at least four times with all possible attention, he gave up pursuing the search, chose a sheltered niche not too close to the camp to avoid being attacked by Jubair's jinn Muʿaqqibāt during sleep and fell asleep dissatisfied and nervous: something was wrong with that place, but he couldn’t understand what.

Even the night passed quietly and, when the sun began to illuminate the ancient ruins that they had chosen as base camp, Altaïr had already been standing for some time and had pushed himself a considerable distance from the camp to hunt something to feed on and hoping to find some trace that at least showed the passage of a predator or at least something that could help him in some way to thin out the ranks of Jubair's followers. He managed to catch a kodama, an excellent catch because the meat of those creatures could be consumed safely without previous cooking and the sap that flowed in their veins was excellent to drink, so he shouldn’t have been scrambling to look for an alternative water source to the one that Jubair had claimed for the exclusive use of the domini and that was near the camp. It was on his way back that he realized another detail: there had been no kodama near the camp. Normally those creatures lived in large numbers in uninhabited forests, and were the basis of the feeding of many creatures; close to the ruins (which were invaded by all sorts of vegetation), on the other hand, not even one was seen ... his soul began to rejoice: there had to be a reason for this absence of small prey, and it had to be something big and dangerous.

The camp was still half asleep when he arrived: some jinns were disputing the leftovers from the humans' breakfast. None of the jinns in possession of that kind of dominus was particularly well fed normally, but these could almost be defined as grim. Not even Al-Mualim showed as little consideration for his jinns as Jubair did. Evidently they hadn’t been able to catch anything, or dared not go far enough from the security of the camp to find suitable prey to feed them; a couple of Jubair's men were actually complaining, intent on throwing the last remnants to the ground. Altaïr observed the scene in disgust: how far down his fellows had fallen ... to pick up the scraps from the ground without hesitation as the rats would have done, poking around in the garbage and yet rushing to the feet of their masters eager to obey every order they gave. He shrugged in annoyance, ignoring the snarls and threats of those pathetic jinns and approaching Jubair to receive instructions for the day; they all seemed in a very bad mood that morning, listless for the night mostly sleepless, it seemed. Altaïr jotted down that information mentally, heard overhearing the conversations in a low voice of those present, and decided not to try to evade surveillance to drink the water of the stream as the other jinn did, and not eat any creature near the ruins. He hadn’t yet understood what was under the matter, but the place certainly didn’t offer healthy resources; apparently none of Jubair's men had noticed this, and this was excellent news.

"Damn their damned superstitions!" the tomb raider was complaining: “As if this were the first site we dig! I can't believe they're really doing so many scenes for so little. "

“I realize this, Master, but we have never been so far north, and you must admit that we do not know the local fauna very well. Each sound could be that of some creature that we don't know is dangerous "was trying to explain one of the foremen:" The hybrid you rented ... maybe it knows or has noticed something. It knows the area better and ... "

"By the way where is that damned thing?" Jubair brightened: “Ah, there it is. Come here." He added sharply when he noticed Altaïr standing in a corner.

"Today we do a preliminary inspection. You will keep the winged shape all the time, even if we enter an underground passage: I don't want to take any risks, do you understand? " he hastily ordered him before diverting attention from him, ignoring the wise advice of the foreman to question him about the possibility of a danger hidden somewhere. Altaïr smiled to himself, then looked for a secluded and out of the way place to wait for the raiders to finish preparing for the expedition. Their group would have been a small group: four jinns and four domains, the rest would have waited at base camp.

He had hoped to be able to catch some clues between the dark recesses of the ruined buildings they examined that day but, on the surface, there seemed to be no trace of any imminent danger, except for the overwhelming atmosphere that seemed to hover in the air like a gas poison. Nothing alarming, not even inside one of the three sarcophagi that were found and systematically cleaned of every object that could have even the slightest value. Altaïr was beginning to worry: he could find food and water far from the contaminated area, but if the malaise that seemed to take hold of everyone more and more as the day progressed, had been attributable to a volatile substance present in the air or to some type of radiation undetectable by Jubair's tools, instead of being generated by a living creature? His lungs could certainly have resisted a much greater quantity of harmful substances than those of humans, but they were not indestructible and he had to remain alive if he wanted to complete his mission. He concluded that he could only hope that only the water and those who consumed it were contaminated: getting away and waiting for the events to answer his questions was not a viable option.

A single kodama was certainly not enough to support the rapid metabolism of the ʿifrīt for a long time so already around mid-day his stomach was cramped with hunger but Altaïr resisted the temptation to hunt something to feed on, even when a couple of hares slipped from under a rusty beam frightened by their arrival. Decision that became even more ironic when, at a second glance, he noticed the ruined fur that covered the body of the two animals and the unmade muscles that barely hid the fragile skeleton: the two animals were definitely sick, but their worn appearance was not he discouraged the other jinns of the expedition from throwing themselves, tearing ferociously and devouring them in a few minutes without even passing them on the flames of the fire set up to prepare the lunch of the humans, and then return to beg at the feet of their masters a mouthful of food and coming rewarded by kicks and stones.

When it was time to get rid of the leftovers from the meal, one of the raiders, perhaps mistaking Altaïr's detached attitude for submissiveness, threw him half a chicken carcass. Altaïr didn't even pretend to want to appropriate it, but the gesture of dominus triggered the fury of one of the group's biggest domestic ʿafārīt, immediately followed by the other two. In all likelihood, the man's gesture didn’t aim to trigger a fight, but simply to reward a jinn who proved to be docile and hadn’t bothered him during the meal; a hint of compassion perhaps. What he got instead was an uncontrolled fight.

At first Altaïr didn't have the slightest intention of fighting for a plucked chicken carcass and he backed up simply on the defensive, but he had to admit to himself that the excuse of a fight would offer him the opportunity to test the actual skills of the jinn of Jubair, as well as perhaps to eliminate some of them already without incurring excessive punishment, being clear that they had been the ones to start the quarrel.

He then stopped moving back and flexed his hind limbs by planting his claws on the ground to stabilize his position. The horny protective eyelids rose to completely hide the eyes behind a screen as black and shiny as obsidian; he bared his teeth in a ferocious growl and hurled himself forward.

It was almost too easy with the first: he was at the head of the group and had spaced the other two with a shot that had the intention of bringing him to rush straight to the throat of Altaïr ... only that Altaïr was no longer at the point where the jinn opponent had planned to land: he was moved to his left, his body already flexed, loaded like a spring, his head lowered and his spine aligned to give the maximum possible force to the blow that pushed his horns into the uncovered side of the other 'ifrīt. The hybrid was not only bigger and more powerful than Muʿaqqibāt, but also decidedly more experienced in combat, so it was not difficult for him to reverse the thrust as soon as his head slid low enough causing the arched horns to penetrate between the barely broken ribs , crossing the muscles and tearing the lung, before attaching to the stumps of bones and muscles. Altaïr ended the impressive maneuver by shifting the weight backwards and rising to his full height to throw the body of what was now his first victim into the air.

Unfortunately, there were two other opponents to deal with, and one of them took advantage of the fact that he had discovered himself, standing up completely, to hit him in turn. The hybrid partially managed to deflect the blow but ended up unbalancing and falling to the ground, finding himself at the mercy of the third muʿaqqibāt. His right wing sent flashes of pain when it was unnaturally folded and crushed by the weight of two jinns that pivoted on it to roll, but Altaïr ignored the stabs and concentrated to hit his assailant in the face, thus carving out some second useful to find the correct position. The two jinns had to be more accustomed to fighting together because they were very well synchronized, their attacks were the result of considerable experience and the two mutually compensated each other for their defense flaws. They were a notable but unbeatable opponent.

As the voices of the domains rose behind him in an attempt to restore order, Altaïr found a defect in the defenses of his opponents and managed to break them with a powerful blow with the claws that neatly sliced the Achilles tendon of one of the two, landing him instantly. Immediately however, a paralyzing discharge of pain unleashed in his brain and spread along the spine, causing him to lack the strength in his legs and forcing him to the ground, in a sprawled and agonizing pile crossed by frenetic convulsions: Jubair had done it through the collar system.

Altaïr's only consolation, while trying to stay conscious through the waves of nausea and agony, was that not even the other two jinn had been spared from it: they lay in a state very similar to that of him, one of them with abundant foam dripping from his mouth mixed with blood, probably having bitten his tongue because of the spasms.

He vaguely felt someone kicking his stomach as he passed by, but the pain of the blow he received, as well as the words that accompanied him, merged into the sickening rumble that cluttered his head and got lost in the vortex. When the convulsions ended and he managed to regain control of his body, he rolled on his side to regurgitate a mouthful of foam and bile, then dragged himself a little away so that the smell of vomiting would not cause him to gag again. He then remained on the ground, trying to stop the frenzied whirling of the world around him and fully regain control of his body.

As the voices of the domains rose behind him in an attempt to restore order, Altaïr found a defect in the defenses of his opponents and managed to break them with a powerful blow with the claws that neatly sliced the Achilles tendon of one of the two, landing him instantly. Immediately however, a paralyzing discharge of pain unleashed in his brain and spread along the spine, causing him to lack the strength in his legs and forcing him to the ground, in a sprawled and agonizing pile crossed by frenetic convulsions: Jubair had done it through the collar system.

Jubair was standing a few meters away, together with the other domini, around the first ʿifrīt who attacked him; the poor fellow still seemed alive, but he did not have much time left: the broken ribs protruded from the profile of the gaunt chest and the Altaïr maneuver had extracted part of the left lung from the ribcage. The ʿifrīt tried to breathe with the remaining lung, partially collapsed, the throat full of blood bubbling with each painful inhalation.

There was an indistinct murmur, which gradually condensed into words: "yes, you're right, it would be a wasted bullet" one of Jubair's followers was saying: "and the other one instead?"

The small group moved towards the other survivors: "It is Achilles' tendon" established another raider in a dry voice, ignoring the pathetic petitions of pity of the jinn under examination and of what, now Altaïr managed to guess, had to be his companion: “Sliced cleanly; and the bone is exposed. What are we doing? This could drag itself to the camp attracting predators "

Jubair nodded thoughtfully, then drew his gun, while the screams of the two jinns grew louder and louder; one of his men drove the last ʿifrīt away by dragging him by the collar, another kicked the injured one to land him completely and stomped one of his horns to lock his head on the ground while Jubair pointed the barrel of his weapon at the temple of the miserable creature and pulled the trigger without hesitation. One's screams stopped abruptly, while those of the other became even more excruciating.

Altaïr closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew what the surviving ʿifrīt was feeling, he too had cried and pleaded when he was in turn in a very similar situation, but those people didn’t know what pity was. Even he didn't feel that anymore. There was no place for it in the world in which they lived: bonding to anyone was only equivalent to making themselves more vulnerable, and exposed all those who were brought to danger and suffering. His still shaky mind returned to Rauf. He had become too attached to little ʿāmir. He had become weak again. For the sake of both, Rauf should have died as soon as possible.

The sound of approaching footsteps and voices roused him and pushed him to raise himself on his arms, even though he was still unstable.

"No, this is fine too: a couple of minutes and they will both be operational again" commented absently one of the domains.

Jubair nodded satisfied: “Then start to collect the equipment: we use the two jinns that remain for the transport of the finds as soon as they stand up and go back to the field, we still found some nice stuff and it’s too risky to go on with only two support jinn. "

Altaïr sighed and dropped to the ground again. Great, now he would also act as a pack mule.

Altaïr's head still throbbed fiercely and his footsteps were still insecure because of the dizziness, when he finally reached the main camp following the group of raiders. The ʿifrīt muʿaqqibāt who survived the clash had suffered a further punishment with kicks and beats, just before the start, for not having stopped crying and complaining about the loss of his partner when he was ordered to do so. It had therefore been necessary to lighten his load so that he could at least get to the camp; load that, of course, had been added to Altaïr's backpack. Now the pathetic jinn no longer spoke and cried: he followed orders like a zombie, his gaze lost in space, the soul too devastated by pain to find the strength to react in any way. Not even this attitude was new to Altaïr, and not even this ignited in his soul even the slightest glimmer of pity. If he really had to look for a feeling, this was of envy for the two dead jinn: at least they were free from suffering now.

He dropped his backpack on the ground as soon as he was allowed and was about to leave when Jubair grabbed him by the collar without warning, dragging and forcing him to kneel at his feet in the center of the camp. He had been a fool to think that his punishment would be limited to the discharge of energy through the collar; well, he had known from the beginning that it wouldn’t be easy or pleasant.

Only once on the ground did he notice that, in one hand, Jubair was still clutching the carcass of the chicken that had given rise to the clash. What strange punishment had the madman engineered? He ardently hoped not be forced to eat that crap, now that it had spent so many hours in the sun after being rolled far and wide on the earth of that unhealthy place: the only smell that emanated from it made his stomach twist.

Jubair grabbed him by the horn and raised his head abruptly towards the sky, in a movement that caused the ʿifrīt a violent dizziness, so much so that for an instant he was practically certain that he would vomit again and then pass out.

"Do you know what this is?" thundered Jubair in a stentorian voice, shaking him through the horn that he continued to hold in his right hand: “This is a Rajim hybrid combat fighter, which costs a small capital every day and for which I had to leave a deposit which is more or less what, an average worker, earn in a year! "

Altaïr was on the point of replying that, to be exact at the moment, what he was holding in his hand was a slender carcass on the verge of disintegration, which he would in fact soon do, breaking into a thousand pieces if he continued to shake it so, but wisely refrained from opening his mouth. He was starting to feel a little drunk.

"And do you know what this is instead?" Jubair went on, raising the half chicken.

Oh, yes, always wanting to be precise, there was also half a chicken in the other hand.

"This is what separates the peaceful coexistence between the muʿaqqibāt and a rajim from the fight to the death" Jubair finished abruptly letting go of Altaïr's horn and turning towards the man who had thrown the carcass in Altaïr, thus triggering the dispute of the early afternoon: "This, gentlemen," continued the chief of the raiders waving half a chicken in front of his spectators: "This half chicken, at the moment cost us the risk of damaging a weapon whose compensation, in case of permanent damage , would amount to a figure equal to that of the entire cost of our trip. It cost us the price of two jinns in practically perfect condition that I had purchased specifically for this mission ... and who got killed for half a carcass! " Jubair finished with a roar, throwing the remains of the chicken on the ground.

"Besides," he went on, regaining his calm: "It cost us a bullet, used to bring down one of the two jinns I have already told you about, as well as a half day of work that could have yielded several finds. Do you need to remind someone how important it is to recover everything possible in the short time available when we go to a site so far away and that we will probably no longer have the opportunity to exploit it? " The other raiders shook their heads in fear: that attitude was never a good sign. All jinns in the area vanished, moving to subtle form and moving away from danger, except Altaïr, too weak and stunned to get up.

"I told you not to throw food to the hybrid in order not to trigger disputes, and I said it because the quarrels between rajim and muʿaqqibāt are almost always resolved with the death of one of the two contenders. Especially when it comes to jinns like our Altaïr, who has been killing other jinns since before learning to walk, "Jubair explained patiently, continuing to move in front of his men and stopping in front of the poor man who had generated all that chaos.

"In fact, I correct myself: two bullets," added Jubair suddenly, raising the arm that now held his gun and firing a few centimeters away from the culprit's nose. The body fell with a revolting sound while the brains and the remains of the face hit the ancient stones that covered the ground: “fortunately we have found a solution, as you can see: the compensation that was due to our dear Rami, will be enough to cover these expenses unforeseen. Thank you, dear Rami. " He concluded with a smile.

The show was over. Jubair paid no attention to anyone, returning to his tent to examine the precious artifacts found that morning and probably to console himself with the thought of their sale of the missed opportunities. Altaïr took a good half hour to return to an upright position. His head was killing him and he couldn't even alleviate the hunger that tormented him with water. He needed to rest now: he had to recover enough to be able to hunt something and thus recover his strength. He went back to the dusty niche he had used the previous evening and curled up in it, sinking into a comatose sleep despite the sunset was still far away.


	4. Primum ipsa lectio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.D.A. I would like to start by thanking CaptainWut for participating in the survey / game that I proposed in the chapter "Legatus Legionis" asking me very interesting questions that have provided me with many insights into this story (they will be marked in the story with the symbol *). It therefore seems right to dedicate this chapter to CaptainWut.  
> For those who missed it and wished to participate, in the chapter "Legatus Legionis" I proposed a small game: since Malìk is going to give some lessons that about the jinn, I would like to insert your eventual questions about them in the story, so that Malìk himself can answer, so I invite anyone intrigued by the subject to send me the questions you have in mind.  
> Obviously, as you have noticed, the chapters will be alternated: one dedicated to Malìk and one dedicated to Altaïr, at least until they meet, so your questions will be answered in the chapters that foresee the presence of Malìk.
> 
> Thanks for your attention, see you soon!

The study program drawn up by Sergeant Yildirim included a month of lectures to train future civilian assistants by providing them with a detailed knowledge of the floor plans, regulations and routes to follow within the complex Masyaf facility, before allowing them to approach the jinn. The one who had been Malìk's teacher had always supported and applied the philosophy that meticulous preparation is essential before embarking on even the simplest of missions; Colonel Al-Sayf was of the same opinion and certainly didn't fail to report any of the information that the sergeant himself would have provided to the students but, being endowed with a much more limited patience, the topics were fully explained in just two and a half weeks: Malìk had no time to waste with members of the group too slow to learn such simple notions.

That would then be the day his students approached a fighting jinn for the first time, inside the recreation area of the Damascus division.

"Most of the jinns you will find here at Damascus are māridūn" he explained as they walked along the sheds that served as warehouses, sheds for vehicles and workshops: "They are large and sometimes a little clumsy, as you should know, so pay attention when they move. Today I will not make you do any exercises or ask you to take control of one of them: I just want you to get used to their way of interacting and moving; however, if you feel at ease, you can approach them "

"Not to be picky but ... I think we can manage a mārid or two: we are all domini here, even if you seem not to want to accept it" began Rebecca Crane's voice from behind Malìk's shoulder.

He sighed but, this time, he wouldn't let himself be drawn into one of the now habitual verbal altercations that broke out between the two of them practically at every lesson. Rebecca certainly had a very different opinion of the jinn from that of Malìk, and this caused most of the friction, but she also seemed to suffer from a strong allergy to the vast majority of the rules that marked military life. In fact, he had wondered many times why that domina had enrolled in the civil assistant course: there seemed to be no facet of her character that could somehow adapt to the task she was expected to perform!

Usually Malìk wouldn’t hesitate to kick her out of the program and, in fact, almost everyone who followed the initiative of training civilian assistants wondered why it hadn't happened yet; however, he wasn't sure that excluding her was a good idea. Perhaps because she reminded him a little of himself of several years ago, perhaps he could sense a hidden potential ... or rather, simply (even if he would never admit it even to himself), the constant challenge of having to support his own arguments against her, amused him by making an otherwise extremely tedious task bearable.

Rebecca was still arguing about how all of them had contact with this kind of jinn and how unfair and reprehensible seemed to her the way Malìk was presenting them, almost portraying them as monsters, when the class reached the web of chains that bounded the area recreational of the Damascus division, however, the colonel still didn’t respond to her provocations: out of the corner of his eye he had already identified something that would have provided a wonderfully decisive counter argument.

A sudden crash shook the fence for several meters in both directions, when two māridūn, engaged in a fight, collapsed in a tangle of limbs and horns right next to it.

Rebecca was now motionless, pale, and staring wide-eyed at the two titans who, too busy in their quarrel to mind anything else, kept hitting each other as they rolled along the net, snapping teeth and horns and exercising a pressure that makes the metal creak. Malìk had been the only one not to jump back and now he enjoyed his revenge with a sly smile.

"Go ahead and expose your theory, Miss Crane" he invited with sarcasm when the two giants had moved away leaving the group of domains immersed in a tense and fearful silence: "You had arrived at the part of the good giants if I'm not mistaken".

After waiting a few seconds for the answer without getting feedback, he chuckled and shook his head, then unlocked the lock of the fence by passing his hand near the detector that would have recognized his identity from one of the bracelets he wore on his right wrist. As soon as the armored door was opened, several horned heads turned towards the new arrivals; some māridūn approached with a menacing air and others just snarled from where they stood.

The māridūn were the largest of the existing jinn species and were also considered by some the most dangerous to humans. They were all endowed with bodies of powerful structure, with massive bones covered by layers of developed muscles, their height was considerably higher than that of an average man, with specimens reaching even more than two and a half meters in stature. The impressive appearance was completed by large twisted horns, similar to those of a ram, often dark or black in color and decidedly marked somatic features, with square jaws and protruding eyebrow arches, equipped (in males) with short and squat horny spikes which gave them an always frowning look. Malìk didn’t blame his students for their hesitation in entering the fenced area where dozens of māridūn observed them darkly but, in fact, these were the least dangerous jinns in the entire structure; if they hadn’t been able to approach these māridūn, it wasn’t worth continuing the lessons.

"Come on, gentlemen, we can't keep the door open forever" he urged them as he crossed the threshold first: "Those you have dealt with in the outside world are no different jinn than these, as I have already explained to you countless times" he explained then chasing away an overly enterprising mārid with a quick wave of his hand: “This is their authentic nature. These māridūn are no different from those you see every day and with whom you may have even worked, they simply rediscovered their deep nature. I remind you that all jinns are predators. And I really mean _everyone_ : even the smallest of the ʿimar are the product of a people, the Anunnaki, who created them to kill humans; it’s a proven and accepted historical truth, but one which we often tend to forget. Of course, after tens of thousands of years of breeding under our dominion, their character and physique have softened, and undoubtedly the collar system and training we provide make many of them friendly, but the genetic basis does not it has changed so much that it is less dangerous for us. It takes very little to bring their behavior back to that of the Anunnaki era ... ah, so you know, those two were just playing "

A hand went up and Malìk interrupted his explanation to let the learner formulate his question: “* Do you mean that all jinns would hate all humans? Even when are they nice to them? "

Malìk shook his head, in fact perhaps he had been a little too hard in explaining the facts: "No, I didn't mean this: there is a difference between predatory instinct and hatred of humans; all jinns possess the former but fortunately few develop the latter. There are countless examples of happy families who have loved and fondled jinns or are made up of mixed couples, no doubt everyone has at least one jinn in the family and I have no doubt that he or she has a sincere affection for you; what many forget or fail to understand is that jinns are not human. When you forget and don't respect this for too long, there is an increased risk of… accidents happening, ”he concluded with a shrug.

"Like the Killer of the Ruins? What is said to kill domains in the historic district? "

Malìk sighed: it was obvious that the topic would come up sooner or later; it was too good news not to generate a sensation, and the ability of journalists in inventing high-sounding and captivating names had not missed its objective: "I don't know enough about the matter to form a precise opinion" he said cautiously: "And I invite all of you to carefully evaluate the news about it, before making yours: there is a lot of news around, some true and some not, and it’s difficult to understand which one is and which the other. As far as I know, for example, the police still cannot say for sure even if it’s really a jinn. But I can tell you that if were certain that it is a dangerous jinn for humans, we in the Jerusalem division would have already been alerted. It could be cases not related to each other, or a human who tries to mislead the police by making them believe that it was all the work of a jinn ... I don't know. In any case, I invite you not to panic: I fully trust in the abilities of the investigators who deal with the case "

The speech was soon joined by several other students, each with his own questions and opinions and soon a lively but relaxing debate was generated, which had the power to relax the nerves of all present, including the māridūn who wandered nearby: being ignored had made them feel "put in their place", as they used to say between domini, and this had reassured them. Now they watched the group curiously but their aggression seemed largely dissolved; the more sociable were waiting to receive permission to approach the newcomers to get to know them, while others had returned to their pastimes, which mostly consisted of fighting.

Unfortunately, being busy at the same time managing the conversation and checking the behavior of a dozen curious māridūn out of the corner of the eye, distracted Malìk from Rebecca, who walked away from the group. The girl had tried to get a couple of those jinns closer but, curiously, she hadn't received a particularly enthusiastic response; the māridūn were not among the most sociable species of jinn and these in particular obviously needed to study her a little longer, before deciding whether to let themselves be approached or not; or they were hesitant at not having received the colonel's explicit permission.

However, there was a jinn in the shade, just outside the fence, a jinn that wasn’t a mārid. A jinn whose gaze and interest were so intense that he turned her around with a shiver.

The girl approached the fence, intertwining her fingers in the chain links that separated her from the jinn always hidden in the shadow of the space between two warehouses. The air was permeated with a sweet, inviting scent.

"I see you, boy," she murmured from under her lashes, forgetting anything but him, her heart quivering in his wrists.

A sweet and inviting purring sound reached her; the jinn didn’t raise his head, so his face was half hidden by the hood, but the pleasure of having been noticed filled the air around, thick as molasses.

"Come on," Rebecca murmured, and the jinn obeyed. The pale sun of late summer caressed elegantly curved-back horns that emerged from the hood of the jinn uniform of the Jerusalem division; mottles that appeared to be made of liquid copper inlaid their surface the color of mahogany. It was a ʿifrīt, and as he slowly approached Rebecca recognized him: he was one of Masyaf's most famous jinn, known as much for his fighting prowess as for his beauty. His owner was a civilian, a famous and eclectic artist, and had caused quite a stir when he had obtained a mixed management of his military career: like Persephone in the myth, in fact, Ezio spent half his time in the recesses of Masyaf as a fighter and half under the sparkling spotlight of the most exclusive photographic studios as a model.

But at that moment, it seemed, he had decided that his place was on his knees at Rebecca's feet.

She reached through the steel links to run her fingers over the edge of Ezio's jaw and then over Ezio's throat, eyes blind to the rest of the world, lost in the deep copper seas that bubbled in the jinn's irises, the thousand streaks reddish and orange swirling in a hypnotic swirl. Nothing existed anymore, besides her and Ezio.

" _Ordinamelo, mia signora_ " he whispered and his voice lit Rebecca's skin with a ferocious fire that flowed like lava down her arms: "Order me to break what divides us and I will do it for you" that burning sensation now flowed under the woman's skin penetrating the layers of muscles, infiltrating her veins: “I know you want it, I see the order you want to give me between your lips. Dominate me, _mia signora_ , order and I will obey "Rebecca's entire body was prey to flames, she could smell her sweet perfume on her tongue and against her palate ... What divided them? Ah, yes, right: there was something that prevented her from reaching him, even if she didn't remember exactly what ... did she want him to break the obstacle? Maybe yes, she didn't remember it well ... she was too busy with those eyes, she wanted to tear off his hood to run her fingers through his hair, get completely lost in his eyes ... yes, of course, she must have wanted to pronounce that order: she was the dominant and what she wanted was ...

Strong hands yanked her back, for a moment it was all just confusion and noise, as the world around her burst through the layers of trance. It took Rebecca several seconds to realize where she was and to understand that the voice calling her imperiously was that of Colonel Al-Sayf, who also owned the hands that shook and held her at the same time.

The dominus's coffee-colored eyes caught her gaze and accompanied her back into reality; only when she was fully recovered she realize how furious he was.

"Are you crazy? Haven't you noticed that that ifrīt is in the early stages of heat?! " Malìk roared as soon as he was sure that the girl could understand him: “Everyone stay here, without doing any other stupid things if you can: I have to take care of Ezio first. Then it will be your turn, Miss Crane "threatened, planting his finger between the collarbones of a still slightly dazed Rebecca.

Ezio, unlike his victim, wasn’t stunned at all, and was therefore perfectly ready to react while Malìk went around the net to be able to catch him. He blew fiercely at him, irritated and frustrated at not having succeeded in his intent. Rebecca watched in horror as Malìk fearlessly approached the big ʿifrīt who kept growling and snapping his teeth, now devoid of all the magnetic charm of a little while before, clothed only in anger and ferocity: "Lei è mia! L’ho presa io! " Ezio hissed violently, his eyes now hidden by the protective membranes as black as night, his voice distorted in an unnatural thundering tone from the secondary vocal cords he was using to make himself even more menacing.

Malìk wasn’t impressed: in addition to having a much higher energy than Rebecca's to dominate the jinn, he could also count on considerable experience in dealing with them. It was he himself who had tamed Ezio, several years ago, when the ifrīt was still nothing more than a ferocious tangle of rancor and aggression; he had seen and felt the worst side of his character and there was nothing he could say or do to intimidate him.

“Stop it” Malìk ordered dryly: “Ezio! I said stop it "he went up, overwhelming the furious growl that responded to his first order and adding to the latter a powerful push to obedience. Defining the intangible network that connected jinn and domini was difficult and Malìk wouldn’t have been able to explain this phenomenon if he had been called upon to do so; it was like giving a push with a part of his soul or perhaps using the stuff that amputated limbs are made of when their former owners say they still feel them. But, whatever it was, for him it was an innate ability that was enough to block Ezio where he was, causing him to fall to his knees and lower his gaze.

Once the ʿifrīt had calmed down, as much as he could in the state he was in, Malìk approached and hooked the leash that hung from his belt to the ring of Ezio's collar: "Now behave yourself, boy. You've done enough trouble for today. "

The ifrīt seemed to regain some composure, clinging to the solidity of Malìk's tone of voice.

“I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't resist "

Malìk nodded and bent down to look him in the eye. The spell of the jinn's impending heat was easily perceived, but it had no effect on the colonel's disciplined and trained mind: "What are you doing here, Ezio?" he asked slowly.

"I'm going into heat, Yusuf called Leonardo to come and pic up me ... sir," he added when a slight stretch of the leash reminded him of good manners.

"And?" Malìk pressed.

"And Malcolm was walking me to the outer doors because Yusuf said he didn't feel safe leaving me with the others ... but then he was distracted ... he didn't keep me as I like ... I saw you here, and I wanted ... really sir, I wanted to come from you then… you know that I can't resist a beautiful woman ”he chuckled, embarrassed and contrite.

Malìk rolled his eyes with a sound of exasperation; that for beautiful women was an obsession for that bullhead already in normal conditions, let alone when he went into heat ... and Rebecca was perhaps irritating in character, but still desirable in appearance.

"Okay Ezio, this time you will not be punished, because there was no damage after all and I feel that you are about to enter the most intense phase of the heat, so I imagine how difficult it is for you to hold back. But I have to take care of my students, so I want you to follow Corporal Tirr now… I mean Malcolm, and wait with him until Leonardo arrives for you. I've been clear?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir"

Once we contacted the soldier previously in charge of Ezio's control and gave him the ʿifrīt again after a severe earful, it was time to have a chat with Rebecca too.

"You are irresponsible!" he growled returning to the fenced area, addressed to the girl. It was difficult to say how much of his fury was generated by the unconscious gesture of his pupil and how much instead was directed towards himself: an unpleasant inner voice kept reminding him that he was the real culprit of the accident; how could he not have noticed Ezio's incoming heat ?! He knew well that the ifrīt suffered from a lack of regularity in the occurrence of heat, and it was his precise duty to always keep an eye on it to catch the signs that heralded its onset. His anger, or at least that part of it that was directed at Rebecca however, evaporated as he looked into her face.

"He ... he _dominated_ me" she replied in a faint voice, her eyes still fixed on the figure of Ezio who was walking away in the wake of Corporal Tirr.

Malìk realized how much Rebecca was traumatized by the incident: for a dominus it was like the coming true of the worst nightmare imaginable, being in that situation. His anger subsided with a deep sigh, as the knowledge that she was just a civilian, and that this was probably the first time she had approached a ifrit in her life, made its way through the flames of his anger, turning it into remorse. The ʿafārīt may not have been the greatest and most powerful of the jinn, but anyone who had a good knowledge of these creatures knew that they were the most dangerous of all, not the māridūn.

The colonel approached his pupil and gently took her by the arm, guiding her to one of the nearby benches: "Maybe you'd better sit down, Miss Crane"

After offering her some water, he prepared to try to clarify what had happened to her, as well as to the other students: "You have not been dominated, Miss Crane; I would rather say that you have been fooled by exploiting the typical spell that makes jinns much more desirable during the heat. The ʿafārīt are able to generate an irresistible influence in the domains during the early stages of heat, much stronger than that of the other jinn species; Ezio was in desperate need to find a partner, and being strongly imprinted with humans, it was among them that he sought him out.

ʿAfārīt can deceive anyone very easily. No wonder you fell into Ezio's trap, Miss Crane, it's not your fault ... and in fact it's not Ezio's either: he can't think clearly because of his state. I should have been more careful to avoid the possibility of this happening. I think I have to offer my apologies. However, I urge you to be more careful with the next ʿifrīt you meet. "

"Could it happen again?" another girl from the group asked horrified.

"It seems obvious to me: it's part of their nature," Malìk observed. "Why do you think there are relatively few people who own a ʿifrīt, otherwise?"

"But don't they understand it's wrong?" someone else asked.

"Wrong?" The colonel laughed: "Why should it be wrong in their eyes?"

“* You mean they don't think like us? Like a sense of right from wrong, and thoughts and feelings?"

Malìk shook his head: “This is another cognitive bias that you absolutely must get rid of: if it is similar to a human, then it must necessarily feel like a human and be moved by its own impulses. This is wrong. But beware "he hastened to add:" I am not saying that jinns do not have feelings of love or compassion or that they cannot generally distinguish good from evil, only that their conception of these feelings does not completely align with that of we humans. To give you an example: they do not feel they belong to a nation and are unable to understand the meaning behind symbols such as flags, which is why in Masyaf the jinns do not attend the morning gathering like human soldiers. However, they feel devotion to their owners and families, and can understand the need to defend other jinns and humans from harm; that's why they decide to enlist. "

"What would he do to me if ... if he caught me?" Rebecca asked: "I mean ... his sense of right and wrong is enough to ..."

"His sense of right and wrong is distorted by the heat," Malìk replied bluntly: there was no reason to hide the truth from her. It might not have been easy or pleasant to accept, but it was important for everyone to understand how little margin for error there was in dealing with Masyaf's jinn: "It is not certain that he would have gone through with it, but it is not possible to be sure on the contrary. But I am sure he would never do such a thing when he is not in heat. We must always keep in mind that these jinns, including Ezio, have seen, lived and learned things that no one should ever be forced to even imagine; such horrors always leave their mark and this is why we pay so much attention when we are with them "he admitted, then clapped his hands on his knees before standing up:" Well, I can say that for today is enough. I think it is better to end the lesson here; come: I'll take you back to the entrance "

Yusuf was waiting at the entrance to the Jerusalem division when Malìk returned after having dismissed his students. He carried the summons from General Al-Sinad to his office. Malìk certainly couldn’t refrain from executing the order immediately, but he would have much preferred to be able to allow himself some time in solitude, mainly to rage on himself, mentally kicking himself for what happened and drawing up new plans to prevent similar situations from happening.

Major Tazim greeted him standing at attention and held the doors open as they proceeded towards the vehicle that would take them to the highest part of the military complex as required by military protocol, but the words he whispered to him as they walked were not bound from the regulation and were therefore decidedly less formal.

"General Al-Sinad has asked to see us, I think we're going to hunt killers!" he whispered gaily over his left shoulder as they walked; Malìk expected to be called to report to be sent on a mission, so it didn't surprise even him: he knew it was only a matter of time before Detective Thorpe found overwhelming evidence at least as regards the species of the culprit of the latest murders, and certainly the Al-Hashīshiyyūn couldn’t fail to provide their full and total support to the police, given their involvement as the suspected origin of the killer's abilities. Even if it had been a simple shayṭān and the result would have been very similar to what you would get by hunting rabbits with a bazooka.

Malìk snorted a grunt of assent, immediately plunging back into a frowning silence.

"That's why Ezio did it, right? Fuck Mal, thank goodness you were there. What the hell went into his head? He had never behaved like this! " then the major deduced.

“He saw easy prey, and I was distracted. It was my fault, I should have been more careful "

"Listen, Captain Control Freak, since when is it your fault even for what you don't even know is happening? No one had noticed that he was going into heat until the last and therefore you hadn’t been informed. What could you have done? "

"I should have known that Ezio was close to the heat anyway, and foresee the possible scenario" he ruled: "Knowing what happens in my division is my main task, damn"

Yusuf snorted: “It will kill you, your mania of wanting to be in absolute control of everything, you know? You were good at stopping him in time, why can't you just be happy that your intervention has solved a potentially disastrous situation? "

"It was just luck it ended well. I failed to do my job and put a lot of people in danger. Ezio could have messed up, you know."

Yusuf rolled his eyes and muttered something surrendering to Malìk's stubbornness: "And anyway you have other problems to take care of now: I smell mission!" he hummed giggling like a child.

Malìk rolled his eyes in turn, and locked himself in a stubborn silence that lasted until he entered General Al-Sinad's office.

The general sat behind his desk, as always; and as always it was impeccably composed… or almost. Malìk had practically grown up under the aegis of man and had also been trained by him for a period: it was therefore easy for him to identify the signs of an anomalous tension in the micro expressions of his face. It was obvious that things weren't as simple as a manhunt when the general dismissed Major Tazim, who was usually always present at meetings before a mission.

"Last night we received a report from the rangers of the guard service of the limes" Al-Sinad began as soon as the office door was closed, leaving only the two domini: "It seems that traces of the passage of raiders have been found near the Radon stream about two days ago. The rangers then identified the camp right next to the ruins of the fortress of the same name; we don't know how long they've been there, but it mustn't have been more than a few days” he explained as he slid an envelope containing photographs and other surveys towards the colonel.

Malìk twitched his lips and eyebrows: "Radon's stronghold isn’t a good place to go digging ... they must be crazy ..."

"Or they are not from these areas, as indeed the information that has been reported suggests" interrupted the general: "So it’s probable that they know nothing about Brøndmand"

Malìk nodded: "This would also explain why the rangers didn’t take care of the matter themselves" kept to himself the thought that he didn’t really expect to be sent out of town on a mission that would have kept him busy several days in that delicate moment; not to mention that, usually, Brøndmand took care of keeping the archaeological area safe. It was the only reason why such a dangerous creature had been left alive so close to the limes.

"Didn't you wonder why I'm sending you on such a mission at this very politically sensitive time, Colonel?" the general asked, however.

Malìk took a moment to reorganize his ideas, so that he could express them appropriately: "Actually, yes, General: I must admit that I expected a summons to start a hunt for the Ruin Killer"

General Al-Sinad chuckled at hearing that name and adjusted the hat he always wore, even when he was in the office: "I guessed: I learned that you have had several interviews with Detective Thorpe and that you are almost certain that the creature we are looking for is an Al-Hashīshiyyūn combat jinn "

"Yes, sir"

"What do you think about that, Colonel?"

Malìk sighed: “Honestly, I don't think it's one of ours: I personally checked all our jinns on final leave and none of them were found to be without an alibi or match our data. I lean more towards a jinn brought here illegally: the trafficking of those poor creatures is a scourge impossible to heal in border posts like New Babylon ... especially here in New Babylon "

Al-Sinad nodded: “I agree with your theory, Colonel. And I believe that the mission I am about to entrust to you will turn out to be connected to the events that are taking place in the city: do you know that the stronghold of Radon was one of the last refuges of the Anunnaki, before their escape? "

"Yes, sir"

"And I imagine you will know that, according to recent studies, it seems not to have been abandoned by its residents: it was destroyed and sealed, there were no survivors among its inhabitants who could escape"

"I don't understand where this is going, sir"

The elderly general leaned back in his chair and crossed his fingers, meeting Malìk's gaze to emphasize the importance of his next words: "No fugitive means no object evacuated from the fortress, Colonel. Sealing the place meant preventing any search after the extermination of the enemies and therefore no collection of materials ... and by materials I mean weapons. "

Malìk was stunned for a moment, unable to believe what he had heard; it seemed to him a little too fanciful theory to come from the always pragmatic and reflective general: "It means perhaps that we must expect those raiders to have found a way into those weapons ... and that, after tens of thousands of years, those same could they be used against us? "

Al-Sinad chuckled: “No, if there had been usable weapons, they would have been consumed during the siege. However, there could be something even more lethal "

"I'm afraid I won't follow you, sir"

The general pinched with his fingers a print from the bottom of the envelope that Malìk was leafing through: it seemed to be a photograph of the page of an ancient manuscript, at least judging by the poor condition of the representation that could hardly be seen there.

"A ball?" he speculated skeptically, more and more confused.

"A _globe_ " corrected the general: "The manuscript calls it a Piece of Eden. It appears to possess incredibly advanced technology, and appears to have been enshrined in the stronghold of Radon. The text speaks little about it, but it seems to be an extremely precious treasure: it seems to be an archive "

"A technology of the Anunnaki era still functional then" Malìk concluded, finally understanding the implications of the possible finding of such an object: the object itself could very well be harmless, but the knowledge it held could open the doors to who knows what advancements in countless fields of application. The wise man brings both the sword and knowledge into battle, and never makes the mistake of thinking that the second is less essential than the first, to achieve victory.

"Colonel, what I am asking is to find that object or any indication that can help us identify its location. And to keep this part of his mission strictly confidential: I have heard rumors that many other people are also trying to recover this artifact. I don't think I have to explain to you what tremendous danger would befall us all if the Fruit were to fall into the wrong hands ”obviously referring to the exponents of organized crime and warlords who infested the quiet city life with their nefarious intentions.

Malìk nodded: "Yes, sir"

His gaze lingered once again on the faded image of a golden sphere inlaid with dark engravings and surrounded by dozens of words in a language that had been dead for millennia. For some reason it gave him the chills to look at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me too long to publish this chapter and I apologize to whoever was expecting it. I can't promise I'll be more regular but I'll do my best. See you soon!


	5. Quod excedit limites part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence. If you don't want to read these parts, avoid reading beyond the sentence - "That's not true, you would already be dead: you can't live that long without a dominus to support you!" the other moaned desperately pulling out his gun.-

It was a pale sun, the one that rose that morning, scarcely capable of illuminating a cold and damp earth like the forehead of a dying man; light fog blanketed the ruins, turned off the colors and blurred the outlines of objects, sinking the camp into an unreal dreamlike atmosphere.

Altaïr had slept for a long time: his body had needed that prolonged rest to recover from the abuse of the previous day. Now, still curled up in his niche lined with moss and dry leaves, he observed the surroundings trying to convince himself to get up: to fully recover he needed food and water, and this meant going hunting. He groaned a few times softly as he forced his stiff muscles to rise and crawl out of his cover; it was even colder and more humid outside and soon the ʿifrīt began to shake.

The camp was still mostly silent; a few figures moved around the tents, but Altaïr calculated that he still had time to go hunting before Jubair requested his presence.

His huge wings curled the mist into eerie twisted shapes as they lifted him off the ground, and within minutes the ʿifrīt was gone from sight.

Apparently, the Anunnaki had designed different types of jinn based on the environments they were supposed to inhabit. According to some scholars, they had preferred to select highly specialized creatures (rather than create a single more generalist species) to prevent the various populations of jinn from getting too organized and deciding to rebel against their lords: managing many small groups unable to exchange ideas and information among them was much easier than trying to stem rebellion in a situation where information is free to circulate and can reach many individuals in a short time.

_Dividi et impera_ someone would have said.

To this theory, many had objected by pointing out that the ʿimar and the shayāṭīn were actually very adaptable species and spread in a fairly homogeneous way on the whole planet; therefore their nature contradicted the theory proposed by those who supported the precise intention of creating "riot barriers" in the ranks of the jinn by the Anunnaki. It was also possible however, argued a third group of scholars, that the idea of creating specialized populations had arisen after the creation of the first species of jinn: the more archaic species, therefore, such as the ʿimar and the shayāṭīn, they would be designed to be creatures as adaptable as humans; with the advent of increasingly powerful and dangerous species in case of revolt, such as māridūn and ʿafārīt, the need arose to study a more effective containment system.

Regardless of what the reason was, the fact remained that ʿafārīt were creatures made to live in the suffocating heat of the desert areas of the planet. To tell the truth, over the centuries, a subspecies more tolerant to colder temperatures had been selected by humans, but Altaïr wasn’t lucky enough to belong to this very recent branch renamed “Indo-European ʿifrīt”. His body, so efficient in dissipating heat and resisting extremely dry climates, was put in serious difficulty just from the first hints of autumn and he wasn’t so stupid as not notice.

He wasn't going to survive the winter, he realized that morning.

The thought had seized him suddenly, but it hadn’t been accompanied by fear or regret: Altaïr wasn’t afraid of dying or suffering, what worried him was that he couldn’t carry out his revenge. So, the only feeling that troubled him, as he tried to find a hunting area that would provide healthy prey to feed on, was of urgency: if he had only two or three months left to live, he intended to use them to kill the domini that had participated in the death of Adha.

A little over an hour later, two kodama and a fair amount of berries had filled his stomach, soothing the cramps, and a small spring had provided additional hydration in addition to the sap of the killed prey. The food helped Altaïr get rid of the last aftermath of the punishment he had suffered the previous day, so he felt ready to face the challenges that awaited him again when he returned to camp.

Jubair was in a very bad mood: during the night the ʿifrīt who had lost his companion had hanged himself from the branch of a large plane tree near the camp, moreover a couple of domini had been seized by symptoms attributable to an intoxication of some like and now they lay dying in their tents. Altaïr was secretly pleased with the situation: none of those present actually seemed in excellent shape, apart from him; apparently his intuition about water had been correct. In a single day he had got rid of three jinn and two other domini had taken care of themselves to knock themselves out; if he was lucky they would soon die.

The leader of the raiders was now alarmed and furious: "It could be in the water" he was saying with his most trusted collaborator: "Even if I don't understand how it could have escaped our tools"

"Maybe a creature poisoned the stream after we checked the potability of the water" proposed the other dominus.

Jubair nodded: “Indeed it could be, although I don't know anything that behaves like that… maybe wild jinn. They like to live among the ruins of buildings and in destroyed or dilapidated places. " He thought aloud as he paced back and forth.

"We have to go up the stream to make sure there are no wild jinns or something equally dangerous upstream" he decided: "Choose two men to stay in the camp with you and three weakest jinns, we will take the strongest ones, so we can go fix anyone who has had the good idea of playing this joke. Of course I will also take Altaïr. I give you command of the camp until our return: if we are lucky we can add some Rajim to the conquests of the mission” he added with a greedy grin.

Altaïr wasn’t loaded with backpack or other equipment: at this juncture he would have traveled light, ready for combat, and therefore also at the head of the group of explorers. Excitement began to take the place of cold-induced apathy, while adrenaline ran through his veins, preparing him to take action.

The stream that supplied the water to the camp came down from a rocky outcrop full of ravines, wedged between several semi-destroyed buildings. Altaïr had all his senses on the alert: he was almost sure it wasn’t Rajim as Jubair had hypothesized, but he hadn’t yet been able to identify the creature that lived in the ruins.

He also had the foresight to test the constraint imposed by Jubair; he didn’t do it in an obvious or too vigorous way, he limited himself to hesitating in front of the minor orders, like sketching a very small step back when the dominus ordered him to advance. All imperceptible disobediences which were not recorded by Jubair, but which allowed Altaïr to have a fairly complete picture of the conditions of the bond.

It was in tatters: Altaïr was bound to Jubair's orders only by a few, frayed, fragments of will.

A fierce smile made its way to his lips.

In the meantime, the group had gone up the stream to a cavern that opened between the chipped stones; the stream formed a shallow lake there, before disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel behind it. The water was crystal clear and didn’t seem contaminated in any way, but Altaïr didn’t miss the fact that there were no algae or aquatic plants decorating the sandy bottom, even in the points where the current was almost absent.

“Let's go inside,” Jubair ordered from behind him after quickly inspecting the area around.

The water was cold even by human standards, so it was a real torment for the ʿifrīt to enter the pool: the sturdy scales protecting his limbs, in the winged form he had at the time, were useless against the liquid assault of the stream, able to evade with extraordinary ease protections designed to defend the underlying skin from sand and sharp rocks; the wings and tail feathers quickly became soaked, becoming heavy and Altaïr had to clench his jaw hard to keep his teeth from chattering. Meanwhile, around him, in the cold and damp darkness, barely lit by the torches of the domini behind him, the walls arched and bent over the course carved by the water, veined with elegant light and dark streaks that aroused an unusual heartbeat of nostalgia in his heart, usually colder than the water that enveloped his legs.

_Outside the complex, the temperature wasn’t manageable by a human, but it was pleasant down here. Sinuous waves of ivory-colored rock alternated with the red layers of iron sand compacted by the ages until they became hard stone; the water of streams that dried up millennia earlier had dug the base furrow, but then it was the wind laden with sand that shaped the incredible formations, leaving a spectacle of colorful mazes behind it._

_Blades of light cut the half-light, illuminating here and there the gypsum and salt crystals that shone on the walls in iridescent constellations, and then bounced around in rainbows whose spectacle was reserved for a few privileged eyes: only in the company of a truly fearsome protector, a human could have ventured into that place._

_Adha was in no danger, however, being in Altaïr's company._

_"Stay still, I said!"_

_"I'm trying but you tickle me!" Altaïr chuckled, trying not to wriggle when the stick, with which Adha was tracing the contours of his silhouette on the white sand of the floor of one of the rooms, brushed him between the feathers of the spread wings, sending a deliciously tormenting vibration all over his body._

_"Done!" the girl trilled happily: "Now get up: it's my turn!"_

_Altaïr sighed and obeyed, taking the rod from the domina's hands and proceeding to trace the girl's profile, once she had taken her place in the center of his silhouette, with her arms wide open at his wings. Finally, Adha spent several minutes placing some salt and gypsum crystals more or less in the center of the two shapes._

_"Now take me up there" she ordered, retrieving her camera from the backpack she had brought with her and pointing to a narrow ledge several meters high._

_"I still haven't understood what you hope to achieve" complained the ’ifrīt, bending over to allow her to climb on his back: "Didn't you say you wanted to photograph the canyons and caves? What does this have to do with it? "_

_"Sudden inspiration, I told you: you’ll see shortly" she giggled, kissing his horn. Altaïr couldn’t resist the constraint of a kiss from her on the horns or forehead, so he happily surrendered to her._

_From above it was now possible to see the two silhouettes drawn in the sand in full; Altaïr cocked his head to the side and sighed looking down. Adha was so small… a very tiny and delicate thing in the center of his huge profile… how could you protect something so tiny and fragile? How could he hope to be able to shield her from the cruel world around her that she seemed unable to see? He would have used all his resources, of course; but now, for the first time, the fear of not being up to the task crept into him._

_Then his attention turned to the crystals that the girl had placed between the two overlapping shapes, not quite in the center, slightly shifted to the left. They formed a heart: a single shining heart, where both profiles would have theirs. Altaïr doubted that his heart was so beautiful, but he would do anything to prevent Adha's from being stained._

_A few tens of minutes later Adha was sitting again on the sand of the floor, the camera connected to the laptop she was holding on her lap and the big ʿifrīt dozing next to her, acting as a backrest._

_"Finished!" she suddenly screamed excitedly: "Look! This is the best piece of today's photo set! I have the victory assured in Sunday's competition, with this shot! " she added proudly, turning the screen so that Altaïr could admire her work._

_In the center of the screen was the image of the two silhouettes previously drawn on the light sand, framed by the enchanting profile of the flecked stone walls. Altaïr's silhouette had been retouched to make it look like the shadow cast on the ground by a ʿifrīt in flight, complete with eyes obtained leaving two illuminated areas at the head; Adha's had instead been left with the original lighting, standing out in the center of his silhouette. Their hearts seemed to overlap and melt in an enchanting iridescence of colored sparks. It was beautiful, wonderful, and this Altaïr said to her, but he didn’t say that the image also made him feel sad: it was like a dark omen: it seemed to him that a piece of him had been cut out with the shape of his Adha ... as if she wasn't meant to complete that silhouette._

The omen had come true: now Adha was no longer there. There was no longer white and red sand, no hot sun playing among the red-hot stones and sparkling crystals, no more shining hearts and bright smiles. Now only a dark shadow remained, with a hole in the center in the shape of a girl.

Altaïr would fill that void with the blood of those who had generated it.

The current accelerated again as the bottom of the pool rose until it was only a few inches below the surface of the water, and then plunged again, forcing the lowest of the group to swim, while the air became more wet, heavy and unhealthy, as the tunnel wound into the recesses of the mountain. An oppressive and unnatural darkness seemed to cloak everything and the torches did not seem to be powerful enough to dispel it. Altaïr's elastic pupils dilated, allowing him to distinguish in the dark the moment when a series of larger rooms opened in the tunnel, studded with limestone formations stained with a dark and oily substance, similar to crude oil. The air smelled of stale and putrefaction here, although the water still appeared clear.

Jubair had sent the expedition jinns on a quick reconnaissance round to check for clues about their possible enemy in the area of the first room, while the domini had gathered on one of the dunes of debris that emerged from the water to empty the boots. and wring out your soaked clothes.

Altaïr quickly moved away from the group: whatever lived in the caves was probably annoyed and irritated by the light, and it was likely that he interpreted the lit torches of the domains as an invasion of his territory, making them a possible target. There was also the possibility that it was those lost in the dark who were most in danger, however: in fact a creature not well adapted to the dark could be an easier and more tempting prey, so Altaïr kept away from the other jinn as well, made awkward, clumsy and noisy by the hardships they suffered and by the intoxication almost certainly due to the water they had drunk. Silent, efficient and with all senses alert, he would hardly have been mistaken for easy prey, so he was unlikely to become the first target.

He was examining one of the formations covered by that strange oily substance when he heard a lapping that sounded different from that produced by the other jinn at work; his normal sight didn’t detect anything, but he still hurried to leave the pool in which he was immersed up to his knees to climb along the steep wall of an ancient landslide, so as to reach a higher point from which to better observe the whole cave, only then did he focus on switching to the other visual spectrum. It was actually a capacity that should have benefited him by eliminating the glare of the sun on the white expanses of saline deposits of his original homeland, so it tended to shield most of the ambient light, but could also be useful in the dark: it was in fact able to reveal the aura of the living, and it was so powerful that it allowed to identify even the traces of a possible passage thanks to the residues left by the energy of any creature. As he expected, the hall plunged into absolute darkness, making impossible for him to move from where he had crouched, but now he could see the luminous shapes of the domini and those of the other jinn. He concentrated on the area where he thought he heard the lapping, but saw nothing, so he continued carefully observe the surroundings without losing heart, taking care never take his back off the stone wall so as not to make himself an easy target from behind.

Dark, dark, the silhouette that shone with fear and discomfort of one of the jinn, dark, dark ... and there it was! A thin and evanescent angry shape that vanished underwater inside a submerged tunnel!

Altaïr thought a bit about what to do: he still didn't know what it was but it was certainly quite big.

He waited patiently for the thing to show up again and studied its behavior; it hadn't attacked yet but was definitely furious. He watched it swim under the surface of the water, apparently attracted by the noises, perhaps undecided on which target to choose. So far he had been the only one completely ignored by that creature, who had approached all the other members of the expedition, but without ever straying too far from the water. A sort of amphibious being then, he concluded.

Altaïr realized that if he didn’t communicate the presence of the thing, would risk breaking the last, fragile strands of Jubair's bond too soon, putting the success of his plan at risk; but he didn't want to be targeted by whatever was wandering around in the water either.

Perhaps it was time to take some risks, however: it was time to get rid of some weight.

Finally he decided to use a stone, whose impact in the water generated enough noise to attract the torches of the domini to the point where the trail of wet footprints on the stone led the light beams up to him. As soon as he was illuminated, he motioned to remain silent and pointed to the deeper water.

Jubair nodded and exchanged a few words in a low voice with the others before gesturing to him to join him but Altaïr shook his head, made the gesture that indicated danger and then pointed to the area where the domini were. Jubair wasn’t an expert in gesture signals, but he knew enough to understand the message: he replied with the gesture that indicated water and then that of danger.

Altaïr corrected him: _water, chest, danger. Water, knee, safe passage. Here, save._

The bond was broken by the lie, but Jubair didn’t notice.

The others jinn, attracted by the exchange of gestures but unable to decipher their meaning, began to understand only when they saw the domains moving towards Altaïr; one of them was stupid enough to cross the water right in front of one of the submerged tunnels.

Everyone turned when they heard his cry, but the action was so rapid that they could only see a few splashes and the surface of the water that stirred for a moment before returning still. _Outside one_ , Altaïr was silently pleased.

All those who were in the water panicked at that point, running wildly towards the landslide and the salvation that was at its summit. The two remaining jinns, however, were perhaps too agile for the creature who preferred to bet on the clamoring and disordered group of domini; it was when it attacked the one who was on the edge of the group that Altaïr could finally see the appearance of the lord of those caves: a dark creature, with barely hinted features, similar to a wax statue left too close to the heat, emerged from the water grabbing the unfortunate dominus that it had chosen as prey. Covered in black skin, slick and shiny like a salamander's, it moved on slender, ridiculously long limbs, disgustingly littered with too many joints; at the end of its thin fingers he sported claws dripping with that strange black substance that Altaïr had seen on the surrounding rocks, the same that also dripped from his horribly wide mouth armed with multiple rows of sharp teeth.

The eyes red and bright as rubies scanned the group for an instant before deciding which was their second prey, but missed the target, even if only by a whisker and the man managed to climb along the steep bank. Only Jubair stopped near Altaïr, however: the two jinns and the two surviving domini threw themselves confusedly into the tunnel that opened nearby screaming hysterically.

"Shit!" Jubair roared furiously: "Come back, you idiots!" but his calls remained unheard, perhaps unheard of.

Altaïr meanwhile continued to stare at the creature, which returned his gaze for several seconds, before plunging and disappearing into one of the submerged tunnels.

_Well, at least now we know what our friend looks like_ , ʿifrīt reflected.

"Let's go find them, you idiot!" the raider apostrophized him, interrupting Altaïr's reasoning who was already elaborating a plan that could best cover his intentions: if he had killed near the water his reluctant ally would probably have thought of it to make the bodies disappear, and without bodies to examine , even the most well-founded of suspicions would have had no evidence to stand on.

"Yes, sir," he murmured as he slipped down the tunnel as well, alternating his two visions to locate the traces of the fugitives and, at the same time, avoid hitting the stone walls or tripping over the uneven floor.

At a certain point, the tracks split, and a series descended along a tunnel from which the sound of running water came. Altaïr turned to his master: "two series" he explained briefly, because Jubair had no patience for turns of words, especially when he was angry or scared ... or both, as in that moment: "these go towards a stream . Those go up, but from there comes the smell of concrete and metal "

Jubair nodded: "First go and see the two idiots who approached the water, I'll wait for you here"

Coward, but there was nothing better to expect from a man like Jubair. The ʿifrīt nodded and disappeared down the tunnel.

It was to be expected that the two humans had ventured down the worst route: their undeveloped senses had warned them too late of the presence of a rather deep stream that cut the road after several tens of meters, Altaïr spotted them much earlier that they would notice him, engaged in probing the gravelly shore to find the access from which they had come this far. They moved side by side like children, having both lost their flashlights, sobbing and moaning softly, their faces distorted with terror, their eyes wide as useless in that darkness where even Altaïr's extraordinary sight was severely tested.

They were bypassed and their heads banged together so hard that their respective skulls crumbled before they could scream. Altaïr didn’t waste even a moment thinking about them, he just pushed the two bodies towards the water, when they collapsed, so that the smashed heads poured brain matter and blood into the water, attracting the slimy-skinned creature.

"Dead," he only reported when he returned.

"Shit," Jubair snarled, "come on then, was it the jinns?"

"Domini"

"Shit"

Altaïr rolled his eyes: among his thousands of defects, that man also included an extraordinary monotony and lack of imagination when it came to swearing. Fortunately Jubair had already started along the tunnel and didn’t see the gesture that could have cost the ʿifrīt dearly ... or at least it could have cost dearly if only there had been a bond to protect him. Indeed the only reason the man was still alive was that Altaïr wanted to leave him for last, and possibly kill him so that he could ambiguously relate the scene, in case Al-Mualim questioned him on his return forcing him to say only the truth.

The much desired opportunity arose a little further on when, to the smell of concrete and metal, the stale smell that was felt in the first cave, and that of stagnant water, were added.

"More water" Altaïr communicated: "But also concrete and metal ... I think it's a way out"

"Sure?"

The ’ifrīt nodded: "The other two jinn also passed this way and headed in that direction"

"Well then let's go"

And in fact there they were, the two runaway jinns, huddled near the wall of a large circular room, the first clearly artificial construction they encountered since they had ventured into that dark labyrinth of tunnels, surrounded by a moat filled with greenish rainwater and with a limpid and crystalline well in the center of it.

They were busy digging to widen a crack in the rock wall from which a little sick and pale light filtered that enveloped the ruins but which, at that moment, must have seemed to them the most beautiful and healthy thing they had ever seen.

Jubair was furious at their escape and, in his fury, killed himself the only two creatures that could have saved him, if only he had been shrewd enough to force them to.

The sound of the two shots thundered deafeningly in the domed hall, bouncing along the walls and echoing for a long time in the dark tunnels that led into them. When it was gone, Jubair sheathed his weapon and turned to Altaïr over his shoulder: "Finish the work of those two cowards and open a way out" he ordered.

Altaïr, standing behind him, smiled fiercely: "No," he just answered, with a thrill of pleasure running down his spine.

Jubair turned furious: "What did you say?"

"I said _no_ ; among other things it would be useless: the rock is too hard "repeated the ’ifrīt, raising his head and staring the dominus in the eye for the first time.

"Filthy disobedient beast!" the man growled in response trying to unleash another discharge through the collar as he had done the previous day, but the words that had to follow died in his throat with a gasp when he realized that there was no effect.

"Yeah," Altaïr chuckled at that point. "The bond broke ... several hours ago in fact: when we left the cave with the underground lake," he added, tilting his head to the side.

"That's not true, you would already be dead: you can't live that long without a dominus to support you!" the other moaned desperately pulling out his gun.

Altaïr wasted no time: he sprinted forward, outclassing the human without any difficulty in speed and alertness; his claws closed around Jubair's hands and tightened. They hugged with all the strength they had, and also with what came from years of repressed rage and rancor.

The cries of the dominus echoed, shrill and tormented, in the corridors, while the gun fell to the ground followed by several of the man's fingers; Altaïr's left hand released the grip on what was now a tattered stump and struck his victim in the jaw. Other bones splintered with a wonderful, wet, creak; the claws hadn’t finished their work, however: they closed around Jubair's shattered jaw and forced it open, leaving the dominus' defenseless tongue at the mercy of the claws of his right hand.

Jubair collapsed to the ground coughing up blood and bits of teeth and screaming in retching, but his tongue remained a trophy in Altaïr.

The big ʿifrīt admired it sadistically a few moments before letting it fall to the ground: "This, is to avoid problems with the matter of the binding of your words: no tongue, no orders" he explained with a smile: "As for my collar instead ... did you really think al-Mualim would send me on a mission that could cost you your life without a backup plan in the event of your _unfortunate_ death?" asked.

Jubair crawled away from him whimpering, using his elbows to try to get away in a ridiculous escape. Altaïr chuckled: “Tamir has always had the second bracelet linked to my collar; and that's actually what sustains me, so… ” he concluded with a shrug.

Jubair then mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a plea for mercy, while continuing to try to crawl away from the ʿifrīt, which instead pinned him to the ground, trampling his chest and sinking the sickle claw into his shoulder.

"Well, now let's wait: you've made enough noise to attract anything around, and I need to be sure our slimy-skinned friend is busy with you, before returning to the cave entrance. I really don't want to have to bump into him as I get out of this filthy hole ... and then ... how did you say _that_ day? Ah! _Admiring a bitch gutted by an expert is almost more satisfying than doing it with your own hands_." Altaïr's amber eyes sparkled with pleasure when they read the terror and recognition in Jubair's: “Oh, yes” he smiled showing off his impressed canine teeth: “I see that you remember too… toh, look who's just arrived. Just in time: I think he prefers prey alive and dying from the way he's looking at you… well, I don't want to keep him waiting. Bye bye ” he concluded waving his fingers in greeting.

The Brøndmand was a creature that had a clear preference for live victims in fact: it behaved like a scavenger only when there was nothing better to eat. When the prey abounded, however, he tended to kill as many as possible and then store them in a point of the network of tunnels he inhabited in anticipation of possible times of famine. Being, the one in front of him, an easy prey and deliciously scented with fresh blood, the creature didn’t hesitate to help itself immediately, before dealing with those already dead. The problem for Jubair was that the Brøndmand began to eat the entrails of its prey first, and didn’t care whether or not they might be alive.


	6. In profundis malum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know I shouldn't make excuses for bad writing ... but I have been suffering from neck pain for two days and can't sleep 😅... I apologize if the writing is not good but I really wanted to publish this chapter because I have been procrastinating until too long

"My God, what kind of monster could have done such a massacre?" Yusuf murmured in a low voice looking at the remains of the destroyed camp.

"Not a brøndmand, that's for sure" Malìk muttered in response, lifting the remains of a tent with one foot to peek at the corpse below: "There is no trace of the mucus that those creatures secrete"

"The mucus dissolves in the water leaving only the toxins, perhaps the fog ..." Major Tazim insisted, but Malìk shook his head: "The fog isn’t enough: it would have taken heavy rain to do such a thing, rain that hasn't been in the last week. These corpses haven't been here for more than a day, two at the most. No, something else attacked them "

“Colonel, we found two more bodies northeast of here. Two ʿafārīt. One gutted, the other shot down by a gunshot "interrupted a soldier who was returning from his patrol tour:" We also found other traces that lead north: it seems that an expedition has headed for the fortress "

Malìk nodded and dismissed his subordinate. What the hell had happened there? A jinn disemboweled and one shot down by a gunshot ... which were added to a human corpse with a bullet thrust into the hypothalamus and a hanged jinn; all the other inhabitants of the camp, however, quickly killed by what could have been identified with an animal of some kind. The hanged jinn could be explained by the conditions in which those unfortunates found themselves: suicide wasn’t uncommon among jinn illegally detained and subjected to all kinds of torture. The human corpse had perhaps been a deserter or had struck a fight with the wrong person, since his death could be traced back to a day earlier than the destruction of the camp ... but the rest? A clash with another band of marauders was unlikely: there were no traces of the means by which they should have left the place and very valuable artifacts had been found in the camp that would have been taken away in that case. It was also clear that the raiders in the camp had shot someone or something, but they had not been killed by bullets, but by claws. A predator of some kind perhaps? The only beasts so powerful and ferocious as to challenge a brøndmand in its territory lived far north, far from the limes.

"Hmpf, I'm a _soldier_ , we need an _investigator_ here" he snorted in frustration when he realized he couldn’t come up with a logical explanation for that matter.

"Oh, yes, Colonel: one with breathtaking legs wrapped in a black pencil skirt ..." Yusuf hummed, but he couldn’t finish his composition because a powerful slap on the back of the neck by Malìk, seemed to extinguish his artistic flair, though not his good humor, at least judging by how he hopping away laughing coarsely from under the protective mask that all Al-Hashishiyyūn wore when they were on missions.

Malìk shook his head in annoyance and headed towards the point where the rangers who had accompanied them were cataloging the artifacts found in the camp. Seeing the various objects displayed in order, allowed Malìk to carry on with his second mission: the search for the golden sphere that so interested General Al-Sinad. If it could be called a "step forward" ascertaining that among them there was nothing that could even vaguely resemble what he was looking for.

It definitely wasn't his lucky day, it seemed.

“Colonel, for the matter of the footprints leading to the fortress? What do we do?"

Yusuf had reappeared behind him so suddenly that he winced with that question. Malìk held back a second backhand aimed at the major and concentrated on the question for a moment. The fortress was the lair of the brøndmand; it was risky, but perhaps it was also the place to find some clues about both the expedition and the location of that damned sphere. Damn, he wasn't even an archaeologist! What the hell had gone through the general's mind when he had entrusted him with a search that needed an archaeologist and an investigation for a detective?!

“I guess we'll have to go and see if these raiders were stupid enough to follow the stream into the brøndmand's lair,” he sighed. “Ask three volunteers from the jinn and three from the domini to go to the keep. Actually four jinns: I don't want to force Nāṣir to come as my jinn, considering his background. The others remain here on guard. Have ropes and equipment prepared for a possible mission in the cave "

"I am included in the three voluntary domini, right?" Yusuf answered sardonically.

"I would never leave an idiot of your caliber to protect the base," Malìk grunted back, chasing him away. _I wouldn't even dream of embarking on a dangerous mission without your precious support_ , it was the real meaning of the Colonel's curt reply; there was no need for someone to explain it to Yusuf: he had long ago learned to read the real words behind the abrupt expressions of his friend.

The group was ready to leave within just fifteen minutes, Malìk personally checked everyone's equipment to make sure it was all right, before bending down in front of Nāṣir, who had knelt in line with the other volunteer jinns. Under the mask of the Al-Hashīshiyyūn the ifrīt hid a devastating scar that covered the right half of his face, of the eye only an empty socket remained which (when he wasn’t wearing the protective combat mask) was covered by a black bandage, his mouth was twisted and pulled by the scar tissue in a perennial grimace. All this had been done to him by a brøndmand, when Nāṣir was used in clandestine fighting; all the jinns in the Jerusalem Division shared similar stories, and all had scars that sank far beyond the flesh, etching their souls deep inside. Malìk didn’t want force any of them beyond their limits.

"Are you sure Nāṣir?" he asked him softly lifting his chin to be looked at directly: "You understand that we are probably going to piss off one of those slimy blacks, right?"

The ’ifrīt chuckled: "Yes, sir. I understand and I want to go with you anyway. I thought that, before my permanent leave, I'd like to kick one of those beasts off the ass. Just to not retire with still the fear of those assholes, ”he added.

Malìk nodded: "It will be really difficult to replace you, when the brøndmand has eaten you, you know?" he joked, rubbing with rough affection the hood that covered the ’ifrīt helmet.

Once the equipment checks were completed, the group set off. As Malìk feared, the tracks of the raiders led straight to one of the entrances to the lair of the brøndmand. The usual luck ... The annoyed dominus grumbled to himself, immediately proceeding to give the order to enter: in front of everyone there would have walked a huge mārid whose species was particularly suited to work in poor light conditions and whose size would have discouraged the attacks of the brøndmand; immediately behind him Malìk himself would walk, ready to provide support in the event of an attack, then Nāṣir and Yusuf, then all the others.

Magnesium torches were promptly lit and thrown in every direction until the large room they reached was not sufficiently illuminated, only then, the colonel, gave the order to proceed with the patrol of the cave.

“Beware of submerged tunnels, stay away. Make as little noise as possible, ”he added before signaling the group to disperse.

It didn't take long before a whistle drew everyone's attention to the highest point of a landslide.

"They passed this way" Nāṣir announced as soon as his conductor was close enough: "there were some problems: they were confused and scattered"

Malìk nodded: "three large jinns and three domini" he noted observing the footprints: "At the entrance there were more ... they must have suffered an attack in this area and then fled along the tunnel"

“One was a mārid” added Yusuf, observing an area where the clayey mud had retained a series of traces: “it's strange, Colonel, come and see. Look: a really big jinn was here, his back against the wall… but he wasn't in a hurry… it's like he's been on the lookout. But why didn't he intervene when the brøndmand attacked? "

Malìk shook his head: “I don't know, Major, what I know is that he wasn't a mārid” he said thoughtfully, bending down to measure with his hand the footprints imprinted in the mud: “This is the mark left by a sickle-shaped claw. The māridūn don't have it. "

"Hmmm ... maybe it's a sign of something else: if it were a sickle claw it should be one and a half times that of a common ʿifrīt ... and the boy it belongs to should be just as out of the ordinary"

“Some ʿafārīt show atavistic characteristics that affect various parts of the body. Perhaps this had the one that affects the sickle-cell claw causing it to increase in size "

Yusuf nodded: “Plausible. Let's hope we don't meet this big guy then, ”he added with a chuckle.

They continued along the track left by the raiders, finding all sorts of footprints and a pair of torches at the base of a high stone step, blood in different points of the path, but no body: the brøndmand had evidently gradually thinned out the ranks of the group by dragging time after time its prey somewhere else, to be able to eat it calmly in its "pantry".

When they finally found the first body, the brøndmand had evidently already finished his meal: the man was lying almost in the center of a large circular room, near a deep well filled with crystal clear water. The ventral cavity had been diligently emptied, as were the eyeballs and the skull.

"There is no doubt: the brøndmand isn’t hungry at the moment" Malìk snorted, observing the corpse: "If he has left the hardest parts of the body it means that he has plenty of food. I fear that this resolves the dilemma of where the little group that has left its traces so far has gone "

“I'm sorry to contradict you, sir. But the brøndmand was not sated: he was disturbed "corrected one of the soldiers who were inspecting the surroundings:" Here there are signs of a struggle and then one of the two contenders turned back, towards the exit "

Malìk had to admit that the soldier was right: a jinn had saved himself from that carnage, but why hadn't they found his footprints at the entrance to the cave? Perhaps he had fled himself starting from the pond, so he had left no footprints except in the bottom of the mirror of water itself, which the current had obviously immediately canceled ... or he had never left there, getting lost in the tunnels. The second theory was more plausible: to take off from that point it would have required uncommon strength and agility, given that the shape of the mountain forced one to climb almost vertically and practically without room for maneuver for several meters, before allowing a normal flight.

"Maybe the jinn just ran away, and that man fought with the brøndmand at that point: look at this gun. It seems fused! "

In fact, the weapon was crumpled almost as if it had been made of soft clay and someone had crushed it before letting it solidify.

"A fairly old brøndmand is capable of secreting two types of mucus: one that contains toxins and dissolves with water and one that is acid. it could have done this during the fight, or it could have licked the gun because of the blood on it "

Malìk nodded: "Plausible: I too have heard of how they usually clean up all the blood from the place where they feed, it seems they are greedy. Well, we'll have to get the body back to base. For the coroner, but first we need to inspect the remaining tunnels to find what's left of the others, and, if we're lucky, a survivor who can give us some more details about what happened here "

Splitting, at that point, was inevitable: the maps of the cave complex showed how the extension was considerable and therefore required to proceed by beating several paths at the same time to be able to complete the mission in a reasonable time. Malìk then took Nāṣir with him and entered one of the tunnels, fervently hoping to find at least the runaway jinn still alive: they could have offered him a way out of that hellish life in Masyaf, if he hadn't been too addicted to violence.

The two walked for some time in silence without detecting the slightest trace of life or any recent activity along their path and had by now abandoned the idea of finding something more interesting than stones and dust when Nāṣir petrified, pointing to the his dominus to do the same.

Malìk took longer than the jinn to notice but, in fact, at regular intervals he could hear a slight scraping, like someone digging or moving pebbles. Following that trail, the two found themselves emerging on a narrow balustrade in another room that had clearly been artificially created.

It was a much larger room than the other, carefully sculpted in order to obtain a series of deep niches along the walls, some still connected by narrow stone bridges; the ceiling must have collapsed for centuries, forming a layer of rubble on the floor and, in the midst of the rubble, there was the source of the noise, now much more perceptible: a large black and slimy shape was busy arranging various bodies among the debris.

They had found their host's pantry.

Malìk carefully observed the environment, trying to work out a plan for the attack: there was no time to go back to gather reinforcements because in the meantime the creature could have moved and thus lose its tracks; he and Nāṣir would have to get by on their own. He still sent a message to make others converge in that place, so as not to be discovered for too long, then he got ready to take action.

“Attack him from behind and immediately aim for the legs” he hissed at Nāṣir: “The line of fire is cluttered and we cannot risk a gunshot in these conditions. We have to cripple him, or he'll be too fast for us in this environment. Watch your mouth - remember this is a specimen that can produce acid. I'll be the bait: you are quieter and faster and you will go unnoticed more easily "

Malìk did his best to be as quiet as possible, of course, but he was still a human being, however well trained. He was unable to hear the noise that exposed him to the brøndmand's attention but, fortunately, he was quick enough in reflexes to avoid his first charge. He thrust the knife he held in his right hand firmly into the side of the beast's jaw, using the resulting lever to control its movements, as he pressed the barrel of the gun under his chin in an attempt to immediately end the fight. He certainly did not expect it to be so simple but he grunted equally disappointed, when the being threw him away with a powerful blow of the arm. The next instant Nāṣir was on brøndmand; as instructed he attacked the lower body, targeting the ankles and knees, claws digging deep furrows through muscles and tendons, sending out copious streams of dense vermilion plasma.

The brøndmand roared in pain and twisted his thin body to face his new attacker, finding himself overwhelmed by Nāṣir's vengeful fury, so hot it left even Malìk paralyzed for an instant. For several moments the dominus was unable to decide how to proceed: the two fighters were locked in a tangle of limbs, teeth and claws, moving too fast to allow Malìk to intervene without risking hurting Nāṣir.

The opportunity arose when the brøndmand managed to shake off the ’ifrīt, throwing it several meters away. Malìk was ready and immediately launched into the attack so as not to give the creature time to catch its breath. He used all his strength to unbalance him and managed to finish the work begun by Nāṣir by completely severing the monster's calf muscle, but he left his side uncovered, an occasion that the brøndmand didn’t let slip.

The blow to the ribs was cushioned by the guards, which probably avoided the fracture of the ribs, but was strong enough to tear the air from Malìk's lungs, who found himself on the ground, stunned and in a decidedly disadvantageous position. The brøndmand was on top of him instantly, trying to bite into his throat, and all Malìk could do was to plant his hidden blade in the creature's shoulder, levering with it to try to keep the furious creature away from its jugular.

Nāṣir, meanwhile, had got up and launched into the fray without hesitation; the three thus found themselves entangled in a tight, staggering tangle of bodies. A part of Malìk remained aware enough of the surrounding environment to realize that the three were getting closer and closer to the flooded part of the great cave, but his attempts to force his opponent to dry land were not effective. Nāṣir seemed not to hear his orders, too busy with his fury and his desire for revenge to be able to concentrate on the orders of his conductor.

The water now reached his knee, while he parried a backhand that would have liked to smash both the helmet and the skull under it. There was not much time and the brøndmand was proving to be a formidable opponent, managing to drag both him and Nāṣir towards his element: deep water.

Suddenly the uneven bottom disappeared from under one of Malìk's feet and he found himself unbalanced, dragged towards the liquid darkness of the pool by the creature that had finally reached his goal. The water invaded his helmet, the sight was rendered useless by the liquid now turbid due to the sediments raised by the fight, the hearing invaded by the confused lapping of the waves that closed on the three fighters; Malìk was left with only tact to understand where his opponent was and how the fight was proceeding.

A rock violently impacted his shoulder, making him escape some of the little and precious air that he had managed to accumulate in his chest before being dragged underwater. He felt Nāṣir's struggle weaken and the water around him had now turned almost completely red; he could not know if and how badly his jinn was injured but he urged to do something to end the fight.

Well aware of how risky it was as a maneuver, he slowed the movement of his left arm, tilting his fist towards where he supposed the brøndmand's mouth was and waited. The beast did not miss the opportunity and bit into it.

Malìk felt the crushing pressure of the bite and his teeth starting to break through his protective bracelet. Without wasting time he forced his arm towards the bottom of the gorge, praying that the armor would hold up enough to allow him to carry out his crazy plan.

The knuckles hit the slimy back of the beast's throat. Malìk twisted his arm with the strength of desperation, bent his hand and unlocked the retractable blade.

The brøndmand's reaction was immediate, starting to struggle, kicking and scratching in an uncoordinated and frantic way for a few moments, before freezing. He had done it: the creature's brain had been pierced, quickly causing its death.

It wasn't over yet though: with his lungs burning from the need for air and his sight rendered useless by the murky water, Malìk hurried to swim as fast as he could towards what seemed to him the direction of the surface ... only to crash into the wall of a rounded tunnel. The brøndmand had dragged them into a flooded shaft, he realized with horror.

_Keep calm, look for a bell-air to catch breath_ , he forced himself: he knew he had very little chance of getting out of there, but he didn't intend to die squeaking in terror like a mouse in a trap. His lungs burned stronger and stronger and the ability to reason and move became less and less ... Malìk began to feel himself vanish, while his thoughts overlapped in a confused and useless way.

The next thing he realized was that he was lying on a gravelly, slightly sloping bank, throwing up silt and water. It took him several minutes to regain his mental faculties and realize he was safe. The brøndmand's body floated inert in the water, stranded between two rocky outcrops that defied the strong current. Beside him, Nāṣir watched him worriedly in the light of a fluorescent flashlight that he had activated and dropped between them.

"Sir ... Sir, can you hear me?" he murmured.

Malìk allowed himself a few more moments to catch his breath and smiled at him: “All right” he managed to croak through his sore throat: “You? Are you hurt? "

The ʿifrīt shook his head, relief written on every grotesque crease of his scarred face, now no longer hidden by the mask he had removed from both himself and his conductor to help him.

Malìk forced himself to get up on his elbows to look around him better: "Are we on the other side of the tunnel?"

"Yes, Sir ... a long tunnel ... or so it seemed to me ..."

Malìk nodded and sat up to dig out a small projector from one of the numerous pockets of his uniform that would display the three-dimensional map of the cave complex. Fortunately, like almost all the cave equipment that he took care to make his men wear, even the small projector was waterproof, and therefore had not suffered any damage. The holographic image of the tunnel system was composed, shining irregularly in the damp air of the beach; a small red dot marked the position of Malìk and Nāṣir, but none of the markers indicating their companions were displayed: something shielded the signal, and the confirmation came when the transmitters also emitted only static signals in response to their attempts to communicate.

"Great, this day is getting better hour after hour," the Colonel muttered sarcastically.

"We are almost at the edge of the known area of the complex, and the tunnel we have preceded is really long," Nāṣir noted, bringing his attention back to the map.

"In fact we were quickly swept away by the current in this direction: it is not possible to simply swim back to the entrance of the tunnel, not without respirators ..."

"What do we do then?"

Malìk looked around, taking the fluorescent flashlight with him as he got up to study the surroundings better. He wandered around for a while among rubble and debris, until he came across three large, carefully decorated doors; two were intact, but one had been knocked down.

"This was broken through by an artillery strike" he meditated aloud, addressing himself however more to himself than to Nāṣir: "A shot that came from the opposite side from us"

"Sir, I don't understand"

Malìk quickly activated the scan function of the small projector, so that the instrument would record their movements and map the path they would follow: "This will be our Ariadne's Thread, in case there are bends or bifurcations" he then explained to Nāṣir showing him the device: “The door was broken down by someone who came from that tunnel, and they did it with something big enough, considering the damage it did. So it is logical to assume that there is an entrance large enough to allow the invaders who fought here to carry a cannon or something similar from the surface "

Nāṣir seemed skeptical: “This fight took place in the time of the Anunnaki, Sir. There may have been collapses, or ... well, we don't know where to go or where the corridor leads "

"The alternative is to sit on the beach hoping that some of our companions will come and look for us right here" the dominus cut short: "In the dark" he then remarked after a pause: "Since we don't have an infinite supply of fluorescence torches. Here we go."

Nāṣir hesitated, reluctant to face the unknown corridor but aware of the validity of the conductor's arguments and reassured by his orders, I decided to him: “Yes, Sir. I just hope that was the only brøndmand around "he sighed.

The corridor was in fact the tomb of a huge object that could be likened to some sort of cannon. Malìk took a few minutes to observe it, noting how it had been apparently made by dismembering and reassembling other machinery. It was a fairly common thing, among the finds of the time, to find similar artifacts: human resistance was not equipped with the means that instead benefited the Anunnaki and their allies; so they had to make do with what was found in landfills or plundered from the battlefields.

It was an interesting piece, despite its clumsy and almost grotesque appearance. It lacked the elegant grandeur of the works of its ancient enemies, yet its primitive and brutally efficient appearance gave it a very special charm: nothing that was not of absolute necessity had been put into its project. Malìk liked it immediately.

The signs of the conflict scarred the entire corridor, opening up like wounds still bleeding after millennia on the surface of the walls, while the two walked in absolute silence. The minutes turned into hours, even if Malìk had his watch as the only time reference.

At a certain point they were forced to deviate along a lateral path due to a collapse that irremediably obstructed the main one; by now his companions had certainly noticed that something had happened and had probably started the research, so the dominus was in a hurry to get out of the shielded area in order to reassure the rest of the expedition and communicate his position.

He was so busy thinking about what he should do once they were able to reestablish communications that he only noticed the end of the corridor when he rode to slide down the abrupt cliff that interrupted him. He had just regained his balance when both the projector and the radio exploded in a cacophonic jumble of signals: a powerful interference drove the instruments crazy, so much so that the two were forced to turn them off in a hurry.

To the worried expression of his jinn Malìk replied with a chuckle: "Oooook ... I didn't expect this ..."

Nāṣir replied with a half smile but it did not last; he shivered and hugged himself, his gaze trapped on the scenery in front of him: "Sir ... what is this place ... there is something very wrong here ... we must go back ... now"

Malìk turned around, but in the dark his eyes couldn't make out much, so he put on the mask again, which he had kept aside to save the batteries in case they ran out of fluorescent lights before finding the exit. The night mode was activated on the viewer and the dominus's heart skipped a beat: in the huge room an army of what seemed to be a kind of grotesque androids was waiting in silence.

Malìk's gaze glimpsed over the quiet expanse of constructs, kidnapped and fascinated, he paused on the guns with which they were equipped, he crawled enchantedly on the elaborate tangle of geometric decorations of the protective shells, he rose upwards, guided by the tangle of mysterious symbols towards the dome of what appeared to be the enormous re-enactment of the room where they had found the body of the tomb raider. The air was still and the silence was profound, nothing disturbed the ceremony that seemed to have taken place in that place for millennia without interruptions, undisturbed, unaware of the world changing outside that place.

All the metal soldiers faced the center where, suspended above a circular mirror of crystalline water by some sort of anti-gravity device, floated a disk several meters in diameter. Four huge statues depicting jinn with outstretched wings to form a sort of dome, protected an altar surrounded by an impressive collection of offerings ... no, Malìk realized with a shiver: not an altar, but a sarcophagus; a sarcophagus with a very rich funerary outfit.

They had found a grave.

"Sir ..."

“It's all right Nāṣir: these people have been dust for a long time. What you hear is due to the magnetic interference from this place. Trust me, big boy "Malìk assured him with a smile, but without daring to raise his voice to more than a whisper because he felt somehow that it would be an affront to break that silence so devoutly austere:" Look: on the other side the continues and definitely goes uphill. Come on, I feel we're close to the surface "

The ’ifrīt resigned himself to following him among the ranks of motionless warriors. Consequently, Malìk wondered why such a trousseau was assigned to the deceased; perhaps it was a great general. Perhaps a general jinn, considering the time of the burial ... suddenly he was seized by the burning desire to see the sarcophagus up close: his would be the first eyes to rest on it after millennia, it was exciting and ... well , for some strange reason he wanted to see that great jinn who had never bowed his head in front of any human.

Nāṣir got stuck, this time really: he didn't want to go too close to the coffin; so Malìk decided to let him make a wider circle, while he would cut through the center of the room. Under the wings of the four jinn guarding the burial, the atmosphere was so charged with energy that even the dominus felt stunned. However, he still approached the sarcophagus holding his breath.

The jinn buried there, because it was indeed a jinn, was a huge ʿifrīt, if the funerary statue reproduced its dimensions exactly. His face was serene, he seemed only asleep, his hands folded over his belly in a regal composure, wrapped in sumptuous, meticulously sculpted robes. Malìk suddenly realized that someone must have dedicated an incredible amount of time and resources to pay homage to this ancient leader. Because? And who had done it? Other jinns? Did the Anunnaki allow such things? As far as he knew, the few graves found until then had been quite spartan; nothing to do with this.

Suddenly his gaze was captured by an object no larger than a grapefruit, placed between the golden horns of the statue of the deceased; a perfect sphere crossed by a tangle of familiar-looking engravings. Holy shit. It was the sphere the General wanted. And it belonged to the leader.

Holy shit.

And now?

Malìk rationalized that it was just a golden ball between the horns of a statue ... I mean the army of androids that revived if the object was removed from the treasure was just movie stuff, right?

And then the orders were orders ... but that jinn ... had been important ... and the aura of respect it instilled was so powerful.

“Look, I'm sorry” he murmured to the statue, extending his hand: “I know you may not like it: I'll leave you everything else, but I badly need the sphere. I promise you that it will be used wisely and kept with the respect it deserves ”he added feeling ridiculous in speaking to what perhaps was now nothing more than a pile of dust in a golden chest.

He felt even more stupid when he closed his fingers on the object, lifted it and slipped it into one of the pockets and then left the center of the room ... and nothing happened: but sure, he really thought that something was going to happen?! No more movie marathons with Yusuf before a mission, he decided: his brain was melting.

He said nothing to Nāṣir, he just urged him to climb the steps leading to the new corridor and then along the ascent until the ʿifrīt seemed to free itself from the strange influence of that place, turning on the transmitters again when they were sure enough to be away from interference who had forced them to turn them off so as not to have their eardrums pierced.

For a while longer he kept his senses alert for a deep rumble or some other distant and terrifying sound, because he could not shake off the idea that he had started some sort of trap or awakened a curse or who knows. what else. He felt really ridiculous, but could it really be that easy? Was he really that lucky?

"Colonel Al-Sayf, this is Major Tazim, can you hear me?" he croaked the radio wearily so suddenly that both Malìk and Nāṣir almost jumped out of their respective skins. Malìk had never been so happy to hear his friend's voice, that he had apparently continued all the time trying to contact them.

Yes, apparently he was so lucky, not least because, now that they were close to the surface, the map projector had found the connection to another tunnel system that had been partially explored a few years ago and thus traced a path to the out of that bad place.

For some strange reason, however, Malìk decided that he would not mention the tomb of the jinn prince in his report and that he would not even mention it to the general, unless he received a direct question: he felt indebted to that powerful leader for having it. let go and thus wanted to partially return the courtesy.

God, he really had to stop the movie marathons with Yusuf: they were ruining his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I always forget to write it, but reviews and comments are always welcome!


End file.
